Life Goes On
by Davoid123
Summary: Springfield's the only town they've got, But to be frank, there's not a lot To recommend it. (Mostly the Simpson Family, Though sometimes not) Schedule: Whenever I finish a chapter.
1. Stack One: Life goes on

[ **AU, as far as a 'canon universe' can go in the Simpsons** ]

It was never supposed to be like this.

Well, Bart wasn't planning it to be like this anyway.

It was supposed to be a normal, routine life. One he could count on _never_ changing. He was planning on a steady job, maybe a family of four, with a happy marriage and good kids (okay, he admits it. _any kid,_ just not like he used to be back in the day). He was planning on it to be a happy life, near his family and friends.

It wasn't.

At the age of forty, he was still the same boy he used to be, just in a bigger body. He lived in his _school_ goddammit. His wife had left him, his children thought of him as a guy they occasionally hung out with instead of a father (much like how he saw _his_ dad, even now). He had no respectable job.

Bart Simpson was not proud of his life.

He was not proud of seeing his children once a month. He didn't _like_ how Milhouse seemed to sneer at him whenever they met, as if saying 'I have a steady marriage, you don't!' (oh how he wanted to just spill the beans to the guy about Nelson. But he couldn't. he owed Lisa that much). He wasn't proud of how _HOMER_ he'd become.

but what had _happened?_ What had changed Bart Simpson, the cheerful class-clown, master Prankster, the funny guy, into _this_?

He had plans. He was going to be a lawyer, or a judge, or a sniper, or pretty much anything but the jobless free-loader that he'd become.

Oh, he had jobs. He had been a worker in Kwik-e Mart. He'd been a construction site worker. He'd even went to college. But _nooooo_ , he had to just…he had to just be the selfless brother that time.

He used to think what would happen if he hadn't passed down that Yale Scholarship to Lisa. Much like how Homer had once wondered what could happen had his high school principal hadn't been such a dick. (he had done it so Lisa wouldn't ruin her life marrying _Milhouse_. Surprise! she did, and she _had_ ) but no use crying over spilt soda. He could think of something. he always did.

Which was when he saw the ad on the Holo-TV he'd bought just after divorce. Between two episodes of Itchy and Scratchy (theystill thought a psychotic mouse brutally executing an innocent cat was funny. And they still had good episode ideas. Well, a few of them _were_ good anyway) he saw it.

A state wide call for the Law School Admission Test. The LSAT, as Lisa had called it when once, when they were trying to rescue Krusty from yet another lawsuit. (he remembered it, 'with all this time I'm reading law books for that clown, I'm pretty sure I'd ace the LSAT if I took it!')

Hmmm…. being a lawyer. He _did_ have his dreams about it after all. Homer _still_ didn't let him watch that blasted movie (and goddammit, he'd tried. No matter what, none of the theaters let him watch it without his dad. Even though he was a grown-ass man in his forties), not that _that_ was a good reason for him to _become_ a lawyer anyway.

Which was when he signed up for the test, and began studying.

* * *

[5 months later]

It was a week before the exam, and the first time he was actually studying for one (okay, not really the first. He _had_ graduated High-school after all) when Jenda decided to send the kids over. The door-app buzzed, and he rolled his eyes before tapping it, throwing the phone to the ground for the door to open. he'd had to pull the plug on the flash-teleport device after that time Snake had decided to pay him a visit.

"Heyya, Bart!" said Kirk, his eight-year-old son, looking just like Simon Woosterfield at his age (well, except for the spiky hair, thankfully he hadn't gone full nerd _yet_ ), "what'cha doing?"

He rolled his eyes, ever since Jenda had divorced him, his children seemed to call him by first name. he thought _oh god, does he HAVE to call me 'Bart'?_

"reading a book. What's it looks like?" he said, not paying attention, too focused on the _boring_ textbook.

"yeah, but what kind of book?" "something on deductive reasoning." Yeah. For some reason, he had to be Sherlock Holmes if he wanted to be a lawyer.

Well, obviously Lawyers didn't need that. Case in point, Hutz wasn't that good on reasoning. Then again he _had_ blown almost all his cases. Scratch that, all the ones Bart or Lisa hadn't fixed for him.

Yes, he had to study this. and Kirk repeatedly saying "I'm bored!" from various locations in the room didn't help in his concentration. "Look, Kirk. do you mind? I'm reading something"

Kirk stopped whatever it was that he was doing, and said "yes, but why are _you_ reading something on deductive reasoning?" Bart was _really_ ready to say 'because of my exam!', but stopped himself in the last second.

Nobody knew about _that_ yet, and until he'd gone to some sort of college, nobody would.

So he said "just…uh…curious! Yeah, just curious!" to which Kirk raised a skeptical eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Bart, I'm bored! There's nothing to do here! Let's go somewhere!" _goddammit, was I this annoying as a child?_ Bart put the book on the desk, put on a bookmark, and said "okay, Kirk! I'm open to suggestions! Where should we go?"

But now, Kirk wasn't on that anymore, he looked at the few photos on the wall, "wait, what's that?"

Bart rolled his eyes, "it's a photo, Kirk. something we had back when I was a kid" "I know what a photo is, we learned that in history a week ago, Bart" said the boy in a condescending tone, "what I meant is, who's _that_ guy? Y'know, that guy with a weird hair sitting next to the stupid clown"

 _And there goes my entire childhood in a nutshell. A guy with a weird hair, and a stupid clown._ "oh, you mean Sideshow Bob"

Kirk looked at Bart with a curious look, "what's a sideshow bob?" "Krusty's old Sidekick, before Mel took over," at the boy's confused look, he explained "you know, that guy with a bone in his hair? he got famous for his book a few years ago. that's Mel." "oh" "right. so Bob was before him. until I …uh… made him get fired?"

"oh _really_? A story? Tell me, c'mon!"

Bart laughed, "you've never seen _How I Met Your Mother,_ have you?" "what?" "oh nevermind. The story goes something like this. Krusty, 'the stupid clown' as you put it, was my idol as a child. I used to watch _all_ his shows, and with the help of your aunt Lisa, we had a lot of stories with the guy. Our first story was when he was sent to prison for armed robbery"

Kirk gasped, "wait, he was a thief?" "oh, he was a _horrible_ man, but thievery was one thing he never did. a guy named Bob Terwilliger, or as we called him 'sideshow bob', framed him. of course _I_ never believed the official story. I learned about how the robber Krusty had big feet, while the actual Krusty didn't. when I found out Sideshow bob had big feet, _and_ a reason to frame the clown, I told the court everything I knew. Bob went to jail, confused at how he'd got caught _by a dumb kid_ , and Krusty went away scot free, promising never to forget me. Which he did, a few minutes later."

Kirk said "but…why do you have a photo like _that_ together, and why do all of you look like you're saying bad words?"

Bart laughed, "your grandma made us say 'funny' before she took the picture, you can see how'd _that_ go. Kirk saying "huh. Wait, are you playing with _penguins_ there?"

Bart sighed, "yeah. Best month of my life, long story, Kid. Why don't you go to your Grandpa? There's _bound_ to be something you'd do together?" "but mum said I had to stay with _you_." "I'll call your mum later; don't you worry"

The kid, relieved to get away from the boring classroom-turned-home, said "okay," before using his phone to knock on Homer's door.

A few minutes after he'd explained the situation to Homer and Mom, Bart was sitting on the coach, a bottle of Duff in hand.

Sideshow bob. Damn, he hadn't seen _that_ guy for a long time. well, since the double manslaughter in Moe's tavern. Since he'd…departed.

He missed it. he missed fearing for his life. He missed fighting for the truth to come out.

He laughed bitterly, the alcohol finally starting to have its effect on him, he could say he hated order and law as much as he liked. He was on their side anyway.

With a renewed enthusiasm, he picked up the book. No matter what, Life would always go on, and _he_ had a test to ace.

* * *

 **A.N**

 **This is my new Simpsons story. A bunch of one-shots based on events and/or episodes from the Simpsons series.**

 **I have a theory; every single future scene we've seen in the Simpsons till now is just a piece of the puzzle that is the Future of the Simpsons. As we have little to no contradicting future scenes in the show, I stand by my theory.**

 **I mean the future of Bart is something like this in my head-canon:**

 **At some point, he gets a Yale scholarship from Mr. Burns, but gives it to Lisa so she could get rid of Milhouse before her life got fucked up. Then became a construction worker as Lisa went to London and fell in love with some jerk.**

 **At some point in his thirties he started a band, broke off the band, began living with Ralph, helped Lisa out at her crisis in the oval office, married Jenda (who he'd gone to prom with) and got two boys (Kirk and Picard). began working in a dinosaur amusement park, got divorced, began living in his old school, and looking for work, while studying for the LSAT (as we know he later became a judge, he** _ **had**_ **to study for those, I guess)**

 **At some point in his forties, he finally got over Jenda, and became a lawyer (he was a supreme judge in his fifties, he** _ **had**_ **to have been a lawyer at some point before that)**

 **At some point in his fifties, he became a judge, and got really successful.**

 **Until he went to a nursing home with Milhouse, and after seeing his one true love, finally passed on. (the Simpsons doesn't say what that 'true love' is. Just that he saw it before he died. Cross-referencing that with another episode that** _ **actually**_ **shows Bart's Last moments, we know his last moments were passed looking at his family photos, I guess that either means someone in his family (maybe a grandchild, maybe the original Simpson family), or just penguins…)**

 **And of course, somehow, in a thousand years, he's hailed as a prophet. of peace and understanding.**

 **The same, of course, can be said about the future of the rest of the characters.**

 **This story happens in his forties, let's say he hasn't taken the LSAT yet, but the events in 'Days of the Holidays Passed' has already happened.**

 **Damn. That was one long rant.**

 **Good day,**

 **Davoid, Signing off.**


	2. Bart's Origins

After an exhausting day of school, dealing with Skinner, Mr. abysmal, Willie and Nelson (who _really_ thought Bart didn't know he was still a bully), Bart finally reached home.

Without even _trying_ to be quiet, he stomped off to his room, with a muffled " _Quiet Bart_ " from Maggie and a grunt from Mom.

He opened the door and took three steps inside, when the door closed by itself.

Bart thought _huh?_ And turned around, hands made into fists, and dropped into a fighting stance, ready to cry 'AAH! SIDESHOW BOB!' until he noticed it was just Lisa.

"Bart" said Lisa in a tone that could only mean 'I don't wanna do this either, but I have to, so don't make it worse'.

Bart said "Why _hello_ Lisa, what can I do for you?" in a jovial tone he knew she hated.

She said "I have a question, and I need you to answer me. _Truthfully_."

He answered "alright…" hesitantly, when she asked, stressing on every word "why do you act so dumb?"

Bart said "huh?" "yes, exactly that. We _all_ know you're not what you pretend to be! You're almost as smart as _I_ am!"

He said "there's a reason, Lis'. But I'm not sure you want to know it"

She said "i want answers!"

He raised an eyebrow (or tried, he couldn't do it and both his eyebrows rose at once), "you want answers?"

She rolled her eyes, already knowing where this was going to, "I want the truth"

He snapped "you can't _handle_ the truth!"

"yeah, that doesn't sound as good as it would in court." he rolled his eyes too "but seriously, the answer can be summarized in two sentences: I'm don't want to be you. I want _revenge!_ "

She said "what do you mean by that?", in a hurt tone that he knew was fake, she continued "what's wrong with me?"

He said "nothing" he rose his hands in a soothing manner, "there's nothing wrong with you. I meant it in another way" "then explain!"

He sighed, "you already plan to go to Yale or Harvard. You've been saying that ever since you learned the words 'I, am, Going, To, Harvard, or, Yale'. You don't plan to stay _here_ , and as such, it doesn't matter what everyone thinks of you." He shrugged, "you can find your happiness somewhere else."

"huh?"

He sighed, for a girl with an IQ of 159, Lisa could be so dumb when she wanted to. "I'm going to stay _here_. The guys I go to school with are going to be the ones I work with and/or for. Can you imagine any of our schoolmates hire a boy like _Martin_? Or god forbid _work for him_?" he said, "that's why we're all like this. Dad, who was supposedly a mathematical genius became this high school drop-out who works for _Burns._ Maggie, who's been raised near you and me has become a normal kid, and Mom, with a university diploma is just a homemaker. Though I can't understand _why_ she chose dad, she's happy. You're not"

She frowned, "What? I _am!_ " he rolled her eyes, "I'm supposed to be the nihilist in this family, and _you're_ the one who gets depression every other month. How can you even _think_ you're a happy teen?"

He frowned, "though, I suppose I _am_ going to become a bald lazy ass like dad and grampa. If the 'Simpson Gene' tripe they all believe is actually true."

She nodded, "I can understand. However," she stopped, " _Wait!_ You said something about _revenge_ too!"

He laughed nervously, "what? _me?_ You've heard wrong!"

She deadpanned "I have it on paper, Bart. Just tell me. You know what'll happen if you don't"

He sighed, "you know, they already explained it once. Just ask mom!"

And huffed, turning his back to her and began changing.

Noting the evident dismissal, and not wishing to see her brother naked, she left the room.

Mom was free now, maybe _she_ could answer her questions.

* * *

Two minutes later, she went to Mom, "mom, tell me what happened when bart went to school"

She sighed, "alright honey," she sat, motioning for her to sit too, then said "it was just about when you got your first saxophone. Bart was a boy of six, excited to finally get out of Ms. Sinclair's hairs and go to school, so he could finally learn"

She snickered, _yeah, right_. Marge protested "Hey! You were just three! you might not remember it, but _I_ do." And added a bit quietly, "and I think so does Bart"

She said "it was just then. He, Milhouse, the twins and Nelson were inseparable back then, best of friends. Until Nelson met Jimbo, and the twins decided hanging with Milhouse was just 'uncool'. They were all happy to finally go to this school thing everyone talked about."

Then, she said in a somber tone, "until he met his first grade teacher, Ms. Sorlemu, who Bart always liked to call 'Sour Lemon'. An old bitter lady with a cynical way of thinking and a snarky attitude towards the children. She just decided Bart was going to be a nobody in the future, and said 'oh what the heck, why wait until future?'" she lowered her head, "and began tormenting him. in a matter of months, he almost went suicidal! Think about it, a boy of _six_ going suicidal!" she continued, "by the time I'd learnt about the teacher, and from _LuAnn_ no less, Skinner had already decided the same, and even if indirectly, allowed Sorlemu to do as she wanted. Bart decided to be the class clown, and you know Bart, if he puts his mind to something, he doesn't stop at half. In a matter of months, his grades dropped to B, C, D, and in the fourth grade, F."

She thought, _but Revenge?_ Then, it all clicked. She remembered Sorlemu, the woman had quit teaching by the end of the year, and after it got out how she acted towards her students, got banned from any sort of education employment for life. And Skinner, oh poor Skinner had been fired five times, four of which were _directly_ Bart's fault.

He'd basically declared war on school, and even though pointless, he'd made life hell for everyone who'd made him become that.

Oh, and Bart was right, Mom (and dad), _had_ talked about this, back when her first saxophone had been destroyed.

She shrugged, all this was pointless. Bart _might've_ said it was all part of a plan, but he wasn't right. He _couldn't_ be right. intentionally dropping one's grade was never the answer.

* * *

Up in his room, Bart was sitting on his bed, hugging his legs as he shivered.

He'd not thought of that motherf*cker in years.

" _ **F, you idiot! And I promise that's all you're ever gonna see!"**_

' _well, joke's on you, Sour Lemon! You might've made life hell for me, but I took away_ all _you had!'_ he thought, before shuddering and stopping.

He sighed, just two more years. Two more years and he would finally be rid of them. Be rid of them all.

* * *

 **A.N**

 **Hello, folks.**

 **Look, we already know bart is** _ **by no means**_ **lower than lisa in any sort of intellectual thing:**

 **he's smarter than Lisa, he's just _physically_ unable to pay attention**

 **he's as good as lisa is in Saxophone (and he wasn't even taught in a class. Though, that was just a joke.) and Jazz, as he plays drums as good as Lisa plays her Sax.**

 **Some of his pranks are simply ingenious for a ten year old kid. (not to mention, he's better than Lisa in thinking on his feet)**

 **He can learn languages by being around people of the same language alone (as seen in the first season, and later (to some degree))**

 **I refuse to believe someone like that (and also, someone who's been known for actually looking forward to the school) would become such an idiot. So IMO, it's an act. He just doesn't care.**

 **And for that reason, I refuse to count the season 20 (and beyond) episodes on their childhood. For some reason, they chose to take Bart's 'dumbness' to an extreme. just like how Homer's only appearance was to be hit by something (or to strangle bart) at some point between season 10 and 20. that changed, Bart's dumbness will too.**

 **Until later!**

 **Davoid, Signing off.**


	3. Birthday Party Rocus

( **Based on the episode Let's Go Fly A Coot S26E20. Basically what would happen if Grampa had been there when Homer was being chewed out by the 'big birthday' people** )

 **[Warning: swearing (use of F-word, mostly)]**

* * *

Homer prided on not being a prick who always said his generation was better in every way (that was Abe's job. Nagging old fart), he knew the only reason people would say others had it better was jealousy, but _goddammit_ he **was** fucking jealous!

So sue him, it may have been a bit immature, but he didn't like the fact some brat _got_ to _complain about his birthday not being good enough_. He didn't like their ungratefulness, and he took it to an extreme.

But when Marge walked to him as he was relaxing in the sun, reading about his newest 'accomplishment', saying "Homer Simpson, do you know anything about these epic birthday fails?" he couldn't be honest.

"just what I read in the papers" he said with a voice high from helium overdose.

"you _did_ suck the helium out of all these balloons!" said marge in her normal condescendingly accusing tone.

"Alright marge, maybe I _did_ cut the strings on a few party hats, but when _I_ was a kid, my birthday party was nothing more than a supermarket cake and sticking pins in a donkey's _butt_ , and I looked forward to it for _one_ whole year! And a giftbag was-" he paused, scoffing, "you didn't need a fucking giftbag, because _you'd just went to a fucking party!_ "

Marge hadn't got it, she may have said 'you have a point', but it was more than just a point…

Homer'd never been a fan of having birthday parties.

For most kids, it's a day of _fun_! Cakes, presents, friends who come around and play! Hell, when you get a little older, you can even sneak in a few beers or something.

for Homer, it was horrible. At best, he would have a stale birthday cake from some supermarket, and a pat on the head with a 'happy birthday son' if dad had returned home from whatever bar he'd been roaming that night. At worst Abe wouldn't return sober, and the night would be even less pleasant.

it was For that reason that none of his friends actually knew his birthday. Even Marge didn't until they were married and had already had Bart's first birthday. It wouldn't make sense for him to tell them. They wouldn't show up to a non-existent party anyway.

That mindset had remained with him when he'd grown up. And now, even if he did indulge in giving his own children good birthday parties (basically with the intent of being a better dad than his own had been), but he always hated going to a party thrown for some other kid.

Snotty brats always complaining about the cake (yeah, at least someone baked it or bought it for you from the bakery), or presents _not being enough_ , or some other bullshit like that. _Oh,_ and let's not forget about the giftbags!

So when the 'big birthday boys' came to him, saying they were blacklisting him, he couldn't see how it was _his_ business.

Even then, he wasn't _heartless_. When he heard Bart and Lisa crying, and then trying to intimidate him (like that would actually work. Not like it would be hard _not_ showing up home Saturday mornings for a few months, until they got the memo he wouldn't stand for their crap) he felt like he had to do something.

But then _his_ dad showed up.

"homer, just agree. You're already a bad father, don't make it worse" he said with his usually _condescendingly 'old'_ voice.

He winced, and then shuddered. And closed his mouth, as he began getting red and redder in anger.

Like _all his fucking life_ , Abe didn't get it. he didn't understand his son was getting angry (and not embarrassed) and continued "you strangle your son and never listen to your father-"

He said "shut the fuck up and get the fuck out of my house, Abe" to which the entire house gasped.

He wasn't one to swear in front of children or strangers, but he didn't give a fuck now

Abe didn't move. But he said "how _dare_ you talk to your own father like that?"

[ **here comes the explosion…** ]

He scoffed, "you're talking to _me_ about being a bad father? _Everything I've learned_ about fathering is from you! I've treated Bart the same way you treated me after Mom left us. And I've been mild with him. i may not be a good father, hell i may be a bad father, but you don't get to judge me. _ten years,_ abe. _TEN YEARS_ you told me mom had left us because I was a bad boy who nobody liked!"

Marge murmured "not in front of strangers…"

To which homer smiled viciously, and turned to the birthday officers, "my wife is right, sir. And here's my answer to your 'offer', I don't handle threats well. you either shut the fuck up, do your job for the which you get paid, and get the fuck out of my house, or I'll continue what I've been doing, and branch out to _Shelbyville, Ogdenville,_ and _terror lake_ as well. that's my final answer, you can show yourselves out, I'll receive your answer by my son's Birthday."

The three suited men grounded their teeth, but left without a word.

With the house of free of strangers, he said "can I rant _now?_ " he continued without waiting for a reply, "for ten years, you _abused_ me, making me think mom leaving was because I had made you guys argue, and when, like any other kid, I tried to compensate for my bad behavior, you _took advantage of me_! You told me I was worthless, I was stupid. You didn't even take care of me! The only good thing you've done for me this past thirty years was helping me buy a house without mortgage! _Thank you for that,_ Abe Simpson. any bad thing that's happened to me, my entire fucking life, it's because of you! So, sorry if you feel I don't visit my 'dear father'enough times, or that I don't show up for _your birthdays_ , when you never threw any for me. now Get the fuck out of my house! _You are dead to me!_ "

And then, he picked his coat, put it on, and said "I'm going to Moe's. I'll be back by tomorrow. don't wait up for me." Then, he turned, "and that is the _last_ time you're threatening me, you little brat!" he said to Bart, before leaving.

His car started, and the screech of tires starting to move filled the street.

Abe dropped his head, and sat on the coach, the Simpsons looking at him in disgust.

Three minutes later, homer was in the bar, on a stool, and sighing, his head in his hands.

"what's it gonna be, Homah?" said Moe, who had felt he wasn't going to be a fun drunk tonight.

"give me a six-pack, Moe. I need a _lot_ of beer for forgetting tonight."

And as he sat behind one of the tables, his beer bottle in his hand, he sighed. He could get drunk tonight.

Tomorrow, he was going to change. He wasn't Abe. Time for him to finally show that.

* * *

 **A.N**

 **Yeah. Of all Simpsons characters, I never liked Grampa's Character. I mean** _ **yeah**_ **, he's funny and all, but that's just it. the character is really the symbol of a bad father (and a bad man, tbh) Homer may be a bad father (and a morally-wrong man), but he is somewhat justified with having a** _ **really really really**_ **bad role model (and even his mom wasn't that better. The woman left his husband and son when they needed him most!)**

 **Until next time,**

 **Davoid, Signing off.**


	4. Exit through the Kwik-e-Mart

Bart wasn't feeling so good. it was simply awful.

No matter what he did, he'd always be punished for it. much like how Lisa would always have to endure Meatballs _in_ her spaghetti instead of separated from it (oh, the woes of a vegetarian)

So what if he'd, for once, bought a thoughtful gift for her mom? The birthday had been ruined for no reason. It wasn't _his_ fault the bunny would chew the wires everywhere. If anything, it was Mom's for letting the thing run through the house free (they were _really_ lucky it hadn't dashed the moment he'd seen Homer screaming at it for chewing the phonewires)

But of course, the moment Mom walked up the stairs dejectedly, hugging the cute pet close, he knew what was coming next. The ever-famous words of 'WHY YOU LITTLE' were herald for nothing for him but pain.

He waited for the light to leave his eyes, for the black dots slowly appearing. Maybe this time Homer would go too far and he wouldn't need to wake again…but nothing happened.

Homer said, as if trying to calm himself down, "now Homer, you can't strangle a boy on his mother's birthday, juries hate that" then, he looked at Bart again, "So instead, Boy, I want you to GET IN THAT RABBIT CAGE!"

Of course bart protested. _Put a kid in a rabbit cage?_ He was pretty sure the juries would hate _that_ even more…

But in he went anyway, and out _they_ did.

Homer slowly went up, and after about fifteen minutes (he counted them. There's not much else a hyperactive kid can do inside a cage that small) he walked down the stairs with Lisa and Marge _and_ Maggie. All of them dressed for going out.

Lisa gave him a sideway glance that _could_ be translated as pity. But that was it. Homer didn't even care, and Mom didn't even _pay attention_ to the fact there was _her_ son, or even any kid , in a _cage_ inside her living room.

"now, boy. We're going out for dinner. You stay in there and think about what you've done!" said Homer, and the four went out the door.

The car started, and left the street, he could see it leaving, with the Lisa cheering for something.

It felt…it felt humiliating. Scathingly painful.

He was _trapped_ in a rabbit-cage simply for the crime of buying a gift that _happened_ to ruin another gift.

 _Think about what you've done_.

Bart was out of the cage in five minutes flat. Most of that time was spent on pulling himself out of the cage as he muttered under his breath, the lock was picked in record time.

Now, he could think of many ways to get back at them.

It would take only five minutes for him to call Child Protecting Service. All he had to do would be placing the cage near the phone, so he could return inside after calling, and conveniently be nearby when the CPS came barging in. a sob story wouldn't be that hard to make up, and he was a master actor. there was _no way_ the CPS agent wouldn't fall for his puppy eyes.

It would be _glorious_ ; he could already see it. Homer would lose all he had, and the Kids would go to better homes. Maybe Lisa could be adopted by a family that was actually respectful to her beliefs. Who knew, Maggie might even learn to talk!

It would even take even less that to call the Flanders. Ned would see it, or one of his kids would tell him to come and see it, and he was too lawful not to report a crime he could actually see.

Even less for him to run away! It wouldn't take long to pick up his belongings, a phone, a laptop, and a suitcase full of clothes. He could think of a place to live later. Maybe go to the Van Houtens for a while until he figured everything out…

But despite Marge's inaction to the many things Homer always to him, she was the one person he didn't want to hurt. And any of these ways of retaliation would hurt her.

He sighed, before going to the kitchen, fixing up something for himself to eat, as he pondered on what to do.

Half an hour later, he was all _hey, screw it! Let's just give them another chance._

As he heard the car parking and Marge talking to Homer, he quickly returned to the cage, conveniently sucked the straw for some water, looking as nonchalant as he could.

They didn't pay him any attention, Lisa yawned and walked to the second floor, Marge shrugged, "Thanks, Homer. It was a great Birthday party!" and went to her room, Homer too going up to change.

They hadn't even _greeted_ him.

Another half-hour later, with Bart finally getting comfy in the cage (surprisingly, it had a soft floor. And besides, it was better than the clown bed he used to sleep on), Homer walked to the living room with a can of beer in his hand, "Son, do you have a minute?"

 _Son?_ **Now** _I'm a son to you?_

"I've been thinking, I really shouldn't've put you in there and left you there while we were having a pizza party without you" he said, with a _straight face_ , "so I'm gonna let you out with an apology"

Bart fumed. It was just like them, Homer would _ruin everything_ for Bart, and then all would be well with a single apology.

He said sulkily, "I don't _wanna_ come out!" Homer was, justifiably, surprised, "wha-ha-WHAT?"

Bart looked at him with a nasty glint in his eyes, "I like it in the cage! The seeds and shavings are a helluva lot better than my lumpy mattress!"

If Homer was apologizing of his own accord, he'd leave the living room with a 'meh!' right away, shrugging as he would say 'I tried my best'.

The very fact he put his foot on, saying "boy, get out of that cage!" meant he wasn't apologizing of his own accord.

Someone had made him do that. Someone had _asked_ him to let the poor little kid out of the cage now that he'd been 'punished' enough.

As Lisa wouldn't _ever_ do something like that, he knew it was Mom.

So she'd actually _knew_ Bart was in a cage, And she didn't care! she had blamed him for her bad birthday too!

That made it worse. Now he wished he'd have done what he was planning when they weren't around.

It was homer _forcing him out of the cage_ that finally did the trick.

If he couldn't get even at Homer, he would _humiliate_ him in public.

And that was how he got into Graffiti, and Arts in the first place.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **Yes. The fact Bart actually** _ **apologized**_ **for his revenge in this episode really annoyed me. He literally had nothing to apologize for this time.**

 **I mean, sometimes, when he's being punished, at least he deserves it. like when he was grounded for ruining thanksgiving. Or (to a very small degree) the time he got a restriction order. (even if the punishment was too much for the crime)**

 **But this episode? He didn't even do anything wrong in this one. he was just a kid who'd bought something _thoughtful_ for his mom on her birthday. it wasn't his fault the let the bunny out of his cage.**

 **Thanks for reading.**

 **And in case you haven't noticed by now, most one-shots here are going to be Bart-Centric.**

 **Davoid Signing off**


	5. Barthood

[ **AU on the same episode** ]

The ride was uneventful. He didn't see anyone, or anything interesting on the short walk from his apartment to the bike-shop. Though, that may be because he was kind of in a hurry.

Today was his first day as the _owner_ of the bike shop, after two years of working as an assistant (and let me tell you, it does _not_ pay that good) his old boss, now too old to actually work in the shop, had decided to leave town, and had left the shop for him.

His first day as the boss, even if he had been the one running the shop the last month or so. It felt good, finally something had gone _his_ way (not to mention, he could finally drop the curtain that covered the stuff he'd painted on the walls of the shop. At least old Bill was OK with the painting. Just not with showing it to others. Too personal for Bart to be in a shop someone else owned, you see.)

He'd already changed the Name of the Shop (and informed all the usual customers) and put up a new billboard. He couldn't wait for the first one to come in and see _him_ behind the cashier.

Looking at his old mementos with a little fond nostalgia, he sighed.

Then he heard someone clearing their throat.

He turned around. It was Nelson.

Nelson, as he _would have_ looked like in his twenties, if he hadn't undergone that stupid surgery.

Nelson, his old friend, the bully who had been tamed into a mild prankster and had joined their Posse so long ago.

He was surprised, but pleasantly. He didn't see any of his school friends anymore. Most of them didn't ride bikes, and most of them were _'too good'_ to be seen around a petty bike mechanic like Bart.

Martin was working as Frink's assistant last he'd heard about him from about town. Ralph a policeman (one of the fourth men of the police force, yippee!) he'd seen driving a police car around sometimes. Milhouse had finally graduated Flight attendance college, But that was the extent of it.

He missed his 'friends'…

Nelson? He hadn't seen the guy ever since before Milhouse's Graduation party, where he finally bit the bullet and left everyone.

"hey man," he said with a raised eyebrow, "you're looking good!"

Nelson nodded, and pointed at his own body "thank god Lisa invented the artificial pituitary," he paused, raising his hands in an apologetic expression "sorry, I didn't mean to use the L-word"

Well, it seemed Bart couldn't control his facial expressions as well as he thought, if _nelson_ could see them that easily.

He shrugged, trying to ignore the fact he hadn't seen any of his 'family' for two years.

So _yes_ , he had not returned home that night, but that didn't justify the fact nobody, not one of the four Simpsons (not that he blamed Maggie. Not all kids were as resourceful a ten-year-old as he used to be) had even tried to track him down.

Guess he didn't mean as much to them as they always told him.

But all this pity-talk aside, Nelson was here for some reason, and he remembered it by looking at Bart again, "Listen man, a certain _someone_ convinced me go 'round givin' back the lunch money I 'took', so here's the first _five thousand_ "

"wow," Bart blinked as he received the stack of hundies. That was exceptionally generous (or, thoughtful if you thought about it. he wasn't really 'giving' money, just returning stolen goods.) of nelson. "What got into _you?_ "

That's when he saw her. The young woman, with her head still resembling a starfish (as much as she said she wanted to wear her hair down, she'd never done that, apparently) in a blue dress and red blouse and a blue vest similar to Nelson's old style. Her voice hadn't changed. Neither had her whiny attitude, apparently. "Nelson _c'mon!_ we'll miss day six of the Bolivian Film festival!"

 _Wait…_ he thought, _Bolivian Film festival? That doesn't sound like the nelson I remembered._

Then, he looked more closely, a Nelson-style Vest on Lisa, and _noticeable_ generosity from Nelson. That could mean only _one thing_.

They were Dating.

"you guys are _dating_?" he asked incredulously. _But, what about Milhouse?_

Nelson said in a deadpan tone, "is there any other reason I'd be going to a Bolivian _film_ festival?"

Lisa, with her pretend apologetic tone that _always_ put the blame on someone else in the middle of the apology said "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Bart. I don't really know how you feel about me!"

[ **A.N: and the AU part starts…here!** ]

Bart raised an eyebrow, "so it's my fault nobody knew where I was? Like… _my_ fault nobody visited me once, not even to see if I was alive?" he rolled his eyes, "you didn't tell me, and you don't know how you feel about me, because when I left that Party, you crossed me off your lives, Lis. We haven't talked in almost two years."

Then, he turned around, and said "how long have you been dating anyway?"

Nelson said "about two years" the same time Lisa said "about two months", then the two of them looked at each other, and Nelson Blushed, before gulping. _Someone's gonna get whipped_ Bart thought, then said "two years? But that would be right Milhouse's party. Did you guys break up before Nelson showed up?"

Nelson raised an eyebrow, " _Milhouse_? Lisa never dated Milhouse".

This time _Lisa_ was the one who gulped and blushed, while Nelson, god bless him, had a face that could only be defined as confused.

 _Someone wasn't faithful…_ thought Bart, but then, with in a completely innocent tone, he continued "well…you told me I was an artist, and you were right" in a tone that she could understand meant they both knew she hadn't meant it when she'd said that. "I am, _and_ I get to write on the walls!"

Right then, he pulled down the curtain that he knew had only the parts of his Life-story on it that didn't have Lisa on them, but were direct effects of Lisa deliberately trying to overshadow him in something.

When he'd left home after his birthday had been ruined by her, or when he'd had to live in the wild after that restriction order, or when she'd ruined BMX for him, or when they'd took him to Grampa's and hadn't picked him up for two years.

Both of them knew what it meant, and the painting was a good piece of art, if he said so himself.

"wow" Lisa said, her tone a mix of Shock, praise, and sadness "that's beautiful"

As Nelson looked at one of the panels (the one with Bart ramming into the kitchen with Homer's car) with a smug amusement, she continued in the same tone "I _do_ notice there's no me"

Bart shrugged, "I take a break for those. Why would I _ever_ want to draw _you_ on a wall, if not for a prank?"

[ **A.N: AU continues!** ]

Lisa's eyes got widened in understanding. After looking at the panels, she finally understood why he'd shown _that_ particular wall to the two.

All his life, Bart had been judged by Others for not being Lisa, even though she was the younger, second kid. All his life he'd been reimpanded for not being an academic, and whenever he'd grown a hobby, They'd took it from him.

Drums? (panel 5 row three [ **A.N: not really. Think the picture on the wall in that scene, but bigger so it has some scenes that are from other episodes** ]), taken from him when he'd become better in Jazz than she ever was. His short time as a shirt-writer? (Panel 8 row three) Cut short when Lisa got offended at one of them. His graffiti spree? (panels 10 to 12, row three) Cut short as soon as he _actually_ got famous.

That was literally his _angst_ wall. Not just a piece of art (even if it was good) but his way of silently protesting.

She winced again, and said "you're still passive-aggressive about how dad treated you?"

Bart chuckled bitterly, "no. I'm not _passive-aggressive_ about how homer _ABUSED_ me. I'll solve that as soon as I can"

And he would. Three years later, with Nelson finally giving him the last bucks of returned lunch money, he would have enough money to sue Homer, and then appeal to the Congress to pass the Homer's law, which would make strangling a kid a _federal_ offence.

But now, he would just dream of that. And say it, because he knew Lisa was going home soon, and would pass it on to the others as well.

"what I _am_ passive-aggressive about, is how you belittle my emotions, feelings, and achievements. What you're doing even right now."

Right before Lisa could reply to that, probably with something scathing or some sob story that would make the birds cry or something, Nelson pulled down the curtain near a few of the bikes he had for sale, it was a picture of him using graffiti on the shadow of the Jebediah Statue, with his signature on that. 'El Barto'.

He said, in a confused tone, "hmmmmm? _You're_ El Barto? How is that possible"

To which both Lisa _and_ Bart blinked, giving him the best deadpan face they could.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **And done. And I think I suck at any sort of writing, because that piece of Angst sucks IMO. But, yeah. I was a bit unsatisfied of the last scene in** _ **Barthood**_ **, where somehow, Bart does something good for a sister that doesn't deserve it. and all he gets is a** _ **thank you**_ **. Which led to this.**

 **Now that** _ **that's**_ **off my chest, I can go on about some other stuff. If you take it with a grain of salt, you can consider the events in Barthood as canon future for bart (because we don't see any further than him being in his twenties), so I made a reference to something in** _ **Holidays of the future passed**_ **in there. Good job if you found it.**

 **Thank you for reading**

 **Davoid, Signing off.**


	6. PJO Crossover: The Divine Child

**[A.N: hello guys. Today I'm doing something different. This story is a crossover. Hope it goes well (pretty much my first crossover story). And in case you were wondering, it's highly AU]**

* * *

That day was just like any other Saturday. I woke up in my bed, a little after nine (so sue me, I Am, despite everything you might've heard about me, a _child_ , I am inclined to sleep in _sometimes_!). a loud noise was coming from downstairs. A cat snarling, a chainsaw buzzing. _Itchy and Scratchy._

I got out of my bed, grouchily rubbing my eyes as I walked to the bathroom, and then downstairs to see why there wasn't any sound other than the TV show.

There was nobody down there, just Bart looking at the TV screen, looking almost mesmerized.

You know, he was always like that. I mean, _yes_ , I watched that show too, and I usually (okay, Always) laughed at the sight of the mouse killing the cat, but not the way he did.

I mean it. the way he watched it wasn't the way an impressionable child would he watched it. it was like he actually _liked_ that sort of violence. Like that show was his way of compensating for the fact he couldn't do that to normal people.

Sometimes I doubted Bart was really _Sane_.

"where're mom and dad?" I asked, looking around, "where's Maggie?"

Without turning his head from the screen, he said "the kid was coughing, you sire and dam took her to the hospital, now shut up, Athena-spawn. I'm watching the show"

I blinked. _Sire? Dam? Athena-spawn_? That was not the normal was Bart talked. Not the sort of insult he would throw at me. _nerd_ , maybe. _Dork_ sometimes, but that word? It had too many syllables for bart to even pronounce correctly.

There was something wrong. And curse my naivety, I tried to confront him about it. "Athena-spawn? What do you mean by that?" Bart looked at me, frowning a little, "a-what's-pawn? You alright, Lis'?"

There was _no WAY_ anyone would really fall for that. Not even Ralph Wiggum. I gave him a deadpan look, "you really think I could fall for that, Bart?"

He gulped, and opened his mouth to talk, probably to defend himself some more, or insult me in a way to distract me, but then he paused, a really out-of-characteristically ugly sneer formed on his face, he snarled, showing longer than average teeth, and said "there's someone here! You called _them_ here?"

Wait. _Them_? I looked at him with a very confused expression, looking at him skeptically, "what? who's _them_?"

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" he said, now his fingernails getting inhumanely large and sharp, as his body got more and more transparent, "you called them here! How did you find out?" "find out what?"

He cursed something in a tongue I couldn't figure out, and looked at me menacingly, "stay put! This isn't over!" he then turned towards the door.

A voice said "she's got to be in danger, Perce! Hurry up!" "I'm _trying!_ " the door banged once, then shook, and fell over, three people walked inside.

They were teens, but neither of them looked like anyone we knew of. One of them was a tall girl with brown hair, eyes with ever-changing colors, and a tall but not really athletic build with a weird looking knife in her hands. Another thing about her was, she looked like the exact opposite of Alex, her clothings practically screamed 'I tried not to look pretty, but it was to no avail!' The other was a boy, a little taller than the girl, with black hair, green eyes, a scarred face, and a look so mean it put Nelson's Bully face to shame, and a build even more athletic that the girl, who had a sharp bronze sword in his hand.

It was obvious.

Weird people, huh? Well, at least they were _human_!

The third one was a black guy with shaggy brown beard and hair. He didn't hold any sort of pre-dark age era weapons, but instead there were a few cans of peas hanging from his neck on a string, and on his belt he had a few flutes. He looked like a human, if not normal, but with one difference. Where his foot should have been, there were _goat legs_. And I was ready to bet that under the red hat he was wearing, he was _definitely_ hiding two long twisted horns.

He was a Satyr. But those weren't supposed to be real!

Now, a normal person (or more probably, someone like uncle Ned from the house next door) would probably think this thing (Satyr, whatever) was some sort of devil from hell, but Satyrs weren't evil in the ancient myths. They were more of innocent mindless helpers working for Apollo or Dionysus. Not to mention, _mythical_ creatures, i.e. not real.

but that thing was definitely a satyr. There's no way someone would do that, just to play a prank. Not even Bart.

Speaking of Bart, he was standing in front of me, almost like when he would when he'd see a bully in school (and believe me, there are bullies in the school. they just don't attack me that much), as if he was trying to protect me. "you're not welcome here, Half-blood! Get back or you'll pay dearly!"

The guy sighed, "I wish _one_ of them would say something new!" before lunging at Bart, swinging his sword widely.

 _He's gonna kill my brother!_ I thought frantically, covering my eyes with my hands, waiting a scream, but it didn't come.

"huh?" I said, as I put my hands away, curious why no sound had come out, what I saw broke all laws of physics. Bart, my comically lucky, sadistic, mischievous brother, had a sword coming out of his back.

Well, more accurately, there was a hole in the middle of his chest, and the sword was inside it. Bart was laughing, his sound higher and more menacing than I ever remembered, "that's the best you can do, mortal?"

I rubbed my eyes, and so did the guy, who looked as hopelessly confused as anyone would be in his situation. "what kind of a monster is _That_ , Piper?" he asked loudly as he swinged again, the sharp sword moving through the boy like it was thin air. Bart (or whatever the creature was) laughed again, just like he would when he was irritating someone with his antics. "my sword has no effect on him!" he said, the girl replied "I have no idea. I _told_ you we should've brought Annabeth with us!"

The boy tried again, swinged his Sword, as the satyr began playing something with one of his flutes (and for the sake of musicians everywhere, I tell you. He was horrible). It was probably meant to be soothing, and it would've been, were its player someone with talent, but its effect was making Bart even more agitated. He cried, his voice still too high for Bart, and said "cut that out!" picking up the table and throwing it at him. the satyr ducked, saying " _whoa_ "

The same went on about another five minutes, the boy trying to pin Bart with his sword, but failing, until the girl, probably _piper_ , brought out a sort of horn out of her pocket, and pointed it at Bart, who was still standing between Lisa and the newcomers, and said " _duck_!"

Understanding it was probably a warning she was supposed to heed, she jumped out of the way, and right on time.

The horn shook, flashed green, and stuff shot out of it. stuff like a Christmas ham, a thanksgiving turkey, a pile of carrots and other food.

I scoffed, _he's obviously gonna do the phasing thing again_ , but the food hit Bart, and he was thrown back to the wall, a barrage of fresh food pinning him to the wall.

He groaned, and fell down unconscious.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **The next part (explanation on why Piper, an OC (a son of Ares), and Grover (from Percy Jackson, obviously) are looking for Lisa. And Bart's fate) will be posted as soon as I finish writing it.**

 **Until then, I'm waiting your responses. Should I do more crossovers? Should I do only Simpsons (and yes, I do have a few more. I'm working on a Marge centric chapter, and a Homer centric chapter, as I type this)**

 **Davoid, signing off**


	7. The Abysmal After-party

[ **based on the scene in Barthood where Milhouse calls Lisa the best simpson. in front of her brother (who also happened to be his best friend of about twelve or more years).** ]

* * *

Now that he thought about it, Milhouse's declaration shouldn't've surprised him that much. Milhouse was, in a way, quick to forgo rationality when in contact with cute girls. Not that Bart was much better, but he'd never done _That_ to someone he'd call 'best friend'.

Samantha should've been the proof to him that Milhouse van Houten would value a summer (or rather autumn) fling more than a friend of many years. But _really_ 'the most amazing Simpson in this party' _?_ in front of _all_ their peers?

It hurt, but wasn't really unexpected.

Another thing that shouldn't've been unexpected was Bart going somewhere to sulk. " _Ugh!_ I'm not the most amazing Simpson, even in my _best friend's_ birthday party?" he sighed, "do you know what it's like to be second best at everything?"

What Lisa didn't understand (and never had) was that he wasn't looking for a real answer to his question. He was just nagging.

Which was why Lisa, who was passing by after giggling at Milhouse's 'sweet' words, snarked at him, "yes, I do! I'm going to Yale!" he rolled his eyes, _here we go again_ , and she said "Lis'n here, Bart Simpson! I'm sick and tired of you nagging at every misfortune you have! Just learn to deal with it! you have talent too, you idiot! You could be one hell of an artist!"

He paused, and in a hopeful voice said "you think I'm an artist?" "yes! Even though you don't have the talent, I've given you the awful childhood all good artists have, so _you're welcome!_ "

Bart sighed, looked at her, and tried his best to bite down the anger. To think of the sweet little girl she was. the cute little sister he'd loved with all his heart.

That always worked.

This time, it didn't. all he _could_ see was this older, taller version of her laughing at him, at his misery, grumbling about him having to go work _slave labor_ in Paris while she could just host, and literally feed and groom an Albanian spy!

He growled softly, and said "I'm outta here!" before storming off the room.

* * *

"well," Lisa sighed, as Bart left the house. "that could've gone better!"

Nelson, who was looking at the window nearby, said " _damn_ , he's really angry!"

Lisa turned her head at the boy who was unlocking his bike. She couldn't see any anger.

Nelson looked at Lisa and shrugged, "look at him, Lisa. See the shoulders moving up and down?" he continued, "you can see he's not breathing normally, even from here! His hands are shaking like those guys with nerve diseases and stuff" he went on, "he's not even _cursing_ under his breath! He's _furious!_ "

She raised an eyebrow, "since when are _you_ a master in body language?" he snickered, "nah, that's just plain old bullying experience! You never try to take lunch money from someone who looks like _that!_ Jimbo tried it once, still has the knife-wounds and bite-marks and a hospital record to show for it!" he looked at her, "Bad business that! Now, was than Van houten's work?" he raised a fist, "I'ma kill 'im If he's done _that_ to Bart Simpson! I may not show it, but he's a friend to me."

She gulped, "calm down, Nelson. It was just me!"

He lost all the macho attitude at that, "wha'?" he said confusedly, "what could _you_ say to make him that mad?" she rubbed the back of her neck, smiling nervously, " _nothing_! He just overreacted on a small thing"

He exploded at that, "you just made yer own _brother_ implode in anger! _That's_ not overreacting! Why I ought to- "

Lisa interrupted, "you're not going to do anything, muntz, or all Springfield will know what you and your three buddies do when you're alone!"

He growled, "you can't prove nothing!" "Au contraire, Nelson! I have _photos_ , and I won't hesitate publishing them if you blab!"

She didn't want to do this, but it was necessary. Nelson's hurt look and baleful words weren't making I easier, "well, if _that's_ how you talked to your brother, I can see why he _'over-reacted'_!"

Her resolve was breaking, ' _c'mon c'mon! just fall for it. please please please!',_ Nelson sighed, "alright, Simpson. What should we _do_ then?"

 _So it's 'Simpson' now, it is?_

She shrugged, "say he's gone home to study or something"

He snickered, then began full-blown laughing, "Bart Simpson _studying_ for a test? Do you even _know_ your own brother?" he waved around, "none of these guys would believe that, not even Ralph fucking _Wiggum!_ "

And he was right, no one would believe _Bart_ to do that

Fortunately, no one asked for him either, except for Jenny, who had broken up with him three years ago, and was looking for him to reconcile now.

* * *

The next day, after waking up in the bed again, she groaned, _I overslept…_ and looked at the clock, and screamed.

"it's Eleven in the morning?" she shrieked, and said complainingly, " _BART!_ "

To which she found no answer.

She banged on their wall, and yelled "Bart!" again. and waited for a response.

But didn't find any.

Not an indignant shout, nor a response, or a curse word.

Bart was either not in his room, or so deep in sleep he couldn't hear anything.

Grumbling at the wasted time, she stomped off to his room, and knocked.

Still no answer.

 _Maybe nelson was right, Bart may still be pissed at me_ , she thought, before using another knock.

They _might've_ thought it was a secret, but Bart and Maggie's secret knocking was really a variation of _Lisa_ and Bart's secret knocking.

Nobody ever said Bart was not predictable.

Bart said in an out-of-character sullen voice "C'min Maggie"

 _Bingo!_ She thought, he's just ignoring _me_

She opened the door, and saw Bart concentrating on something he was painting.

She hadn't really meant it, it was just a joke, but _Bart_ had taken it seriously, he was using his artistic talents, and finally doing something with his life.

"do you want something, Mags?" he said, and she replied "yes, I wanted to talk"

He suddenly whipped his head to her location.

And with a sullen voice said "oh, it's _you_ " he turned to his painting, "get out. I got the memo. There's no need for you to make my _teenagedom_ miserable too."

' _Aw Shucks!_ He's still angry about that?' she waited for him to say something else.

But he didn't.

In fact, in a completely out-of-character (and unnatural for a person with proven ADHD) manner, he ignored her, focusing solely on his work, which was turning to be a painting in abstract style with a lot of red and black (Lisa never said she understood painting. Just music)

"Bart," she said, "I'm here to talk" "then talk"

She sighed in relief, and began talking "Bart, I have to say I-" but Bart just put the brush in a small bucket full of water and walked out of the room.

'huh', she blinked, _'that_ hadn't happened before.'

* * *

And she didn't see him for the rest of the day. Until he returned to his room, closed his door loudly, and didn't open it again.

While in the kitchen, still without Bart (or Homer), Maggie complained, "Mom, Bart won't answer me anymore!"

Marge said patiently, "I've already told you, Maggie. Bart is in a tricky age, they tend to get moody sometimes, you just have to wait" "but he doesn't even answer to our door knock call anymore!"

Lisa blushed, "oh, that was me, he probably thinks you might be me, and he's not talking to me"

She sighed, "what did you do _this_ time?"

'well, there goes the sister I was supposed to have a bond with!' she thought, and said "not you too, Maggie! He just overreacted to something I said" and from behind them, Bart said "I'll tell you what I 'overreacted' to: 'you have talent too, your idiot! You could be one hell of an artist! even though you don't have the talent, I've given you the awful childhood all good artists have, so you're welcome!' quote unquote."

 _Ouch_ , this _was_ a low blow. Had she really said that?

Maybe she shouldn't've been that harsh on him. well, if she _knew_ he was going to be like that, she would've said something else.

"LISA!" said mom with a shocked face, "that's a horrible thing to say! Apologize to your brother!"

She said "aright, Bart. I'm sorry I said that"

He said in the same voice, "I won't accept your apology, and I don't need your false pretense just because mom said you had to apologize"

And left the room, Maggie whispered to her "go after him!"

She quickly rose and followed him, "Bart, _please_! I said I was sorry" "sorry you said it, not sorry you meant it. you're not sorry about hurting your brother, Lisa. I _said_ , I don't need false pretenses. Just leave me alone!" "Bart- "he said in a venomous tone, "leave. Me. Alone!"

Then sat on the coach.

When she didn't leave, he sighed, "look. There used to be this line I never crossed. Whenever I wanted to hurt you. In a prank or a fight or anything, all I had to do was to remind myself of Lisa, my little sister. The little girl who _actually_ loved me as much as I loved her. Who didn't experiment on me as revenge on a literal accident" He narrowed his eyes, "now I can't. I _try_ , but I can't. and frankly, I don't think I should love someone who thinks I should be grateful of her for hurting me. So, for the sake of _my_ sanity, get the _hell_ out of my face!" he said, and left the living room to his own.

* * *

The next day, the two got on the bus, and Bart walked to the nearest empty seat, which was as always, Milhouse's

Milhouse said "hey Bart!" and he replied coldly "Van Houten"

Milhouse frantically thought _'why's he using my last name? he's_ never _called me by last name!'_

He asked "is something wrong?" he shrugged, "just ask the _amazing_ Simpson, why won't you?"

 _The amazing Simpson?_ He thought confusedly, "what do you mean by that?" then he sighed, "oh"

The birthday party.

So _that_ was why he was so grouchy

"Bart! C'mon man, you _know_ I had to say that! It's what you say to your crush!"

Bart prided himself on being a good friend. To be honest, that was the only reason he hadn't done this until now, but even _he_ had limits. And he had reached it now.

"you still think you have a chance with Lisa simpson?" he laughed cruelly, "grow _up_ you idiot! Lisa Simpson doesn't like you as a boy she can date! She doesn't even see you as a guy! You're so friend-zoned by her she thinks you're her big _sister_! When the fuck are you going to accept that?"

Before Milhouse could say anything, he continued, "even though you're always there for her, she never sees you. For Pete's sake, she chose _Nelson Muntz_ and _Ralph Wiggum_ over you. I repeat, _Ralph Wiggum!_ When will you finally learn she won't _ever_ like you romantically?"

Then, he stopped. Calmed himself down, and looked at his bag.

Milhouse was about to cry, but even he wasn't that pathetic. Bart was right. he _had_ been the weird stalking guy who always tried to gain her affection. He'd never get it.

Even his last try, complimenting her in front of everyone they knew hadn't worked. It'd just exploded in his face, in the form of losing his first friend.

"Bart, you know I don't" "can it, van houten." Snapped Martin from the seat ahead of them, "it's not even your first time doing this with a girl."

 _What the hell does martin have to do with this?_ He thought, "huh? What'd 'ya mean?"

Bart said "remember Samantha Sankey? You ended our friendship then too. Really, was our friendship _that_ worthless to you?"

Because, apparently Bart had been offended too much. And now, he'd just called off their bro-hood.

Milhouse's first friendship.

* * *

"MOM! It's been two days! Bart still doesn't talk to me! What should I do?" said Lisa, two days after the abysmal after-party a bit sadly.

Marge wasn't as concerned, without looking at Lisa, she said "oh, give it a few days. He'll calm down eventually!"

Days turned to weeks, into months.

He ignored her in school, he seldom showed up at home and even then he'd mostly hang out in his own room, he spent more time with _Grampa_ than with his family.

A year later, at Milhouse's fourteenth birthday, he neither showed up, not even like the bullies for freeloading.

He still didn't talk to her (and didn't use the childish 'tell Lisa I said blah blah blah' either) and none of his new friends used her name in front of him either. It was always 'the L-word' or 'the girl' or 'that Simpson' or 'a certain person' instead.

And it was getting really depressing. Even _Maggie_ , her own sister, wouldn't talk to her as friendly as she used to, being closer to Bart than to her, and Homer, as usual, had no idea what was going on.

Until one day, a Saturday morning, Bart walked out of his room, and said jovially (a tone he hadn't used for two years) "good morning Simpsons!"

Lisa, who had walked out of her room, clearing her eyes grouchily, said "huh?"

"well, Lisa, I suppose I've got to finally thank you for doing something productive for this family!"

Before Lisa could even realize he was talking to her again, he continued "I showed some of my paintings to a gallery. Turns out they liked them! Long story short, _I'm_ a few grands richer!"

He smirked, " _thank you_ for helping me become an artist, sister! I finally have something to show for my rough childhood. And _you_ have something to show for your unique beliefs."

well, at least he was _Talking_ again. Nobody said teenaged Bart was forgiving.

* * *

 **A.N**

 **Hello, for some reasons, I've decided not to post the second part of the PJO/Simpsons crossover now (reasons may or may not include the fact I don't know how to finish it, and that I've realized a Simpsons/PJO crossover was a stupid idea)**

 **I know, the original scene happened in Milhouse's graduation party, and it wasn't in his apartment. Just, when I wrote this I thought it was his thirteenth Bday party, so I didn't change it. so It's an AU, I guess.**

 **Note that, in the episode _Barthoos_ , and within the events of the** __ **episode, Milhouse was completely justified. Bart wasn't** _ **really**_ **a good friend to Milhouse. He actually didn't help him out when the cops thought he was the one vandalizing. In that episode, by the time Milhouse had graduated, Bart wasn't his best friend anymore. I kinda doubt he was really even his friend. More of a friendly acquaintance or something.**

 **But this chapter doesn't exactly follow the events of Barthood, just that particular scene. So I could practice writing.**

 **And about that last part with Bart's attitude towards Lisa's beliefs. I don't care about your beliefs. have as many as you want, but if you** _ **make**_ **me not eat meat, or make life miserable for me for not believing in Buddha (or god, or Allah, or whoever it is you worship), or try to destroy my fun because you think there's something wrong with what I entertain myself with (so long as it's not illegal, obviously), I'm not gonna respect your beliefs. nobody with half a mind should.  
And Lisa's are mostly stupid. I have a lot of respect for both Buddhists **_**and**_ **vegeterians, and i'm sorry for saying this, but _her_ beliefs are nothing but something a child of eight gets into and then grows out of by twelve:  
she becomes a Buddhist for the sole reason that Mr. Burns tries to buy the church (so it's more of an 'I don't want to show up in Mr. Burn's church' than a real, legitimate change in belief) and her reason for being a vegetarian is literally something every kid grows out of when they reach 12 (I am sure everyone has had that phase where you don't eat meat because you saw a calf once. But that's not a real reason for changing a food diet. The reasoning of 'animals are cute and as such shouldn't be eaten' is the most childish opinion I've ever seen). And her 'progressive attitude' and 'pursue of truth' have cost the city more than anything snake has ever stolen. Possibly as much as Quimby's embezzlements have. **

**Good day, and thanks for reading. If you actually did read all that…**

 **Davoid, signing off.**


	8. Armin Tamzarian's New Life

*Ring Ring*

"Seymour," he heard, as he pushed on his ears the pillow he'd put on the sofa. _Goddammit. they woke us better than this in the POW camps_. "SEYMOUR!"

He sighed, throwing the pillow to the wall, "what is it, mother?"

"go answer the door goddammit!" came from upstairs, the muffled, gruff voice of his mother chastising him as was the usual all her life.

"alright, mother. I'll do that" he said, as he got up, rubbing his eyes, and opening the door, "what is it-" he almost said, before the first thing hit him.

It hit him hard, and he shivered from the cold. _Snowballs_! His training hit in, involuntarily ducking the incoming projectiles. A few of them hit him, most didn't.

That was enough for mother, who'd showed up to the door, to start bitterly talking like she was disappointed, "my son. _Scared of water_ "

His eyes flashed red, and he grabbed the last ball, and threw it back at the boys, them yelping and running away.

"bullying children now?" said the old woman, Agnes Skinner, shaking her head, "pathetic, Seymour"

He grumbled, and barged in to the house, banging the door loudly as he did so.

Another normal December Sunday morning in the Skinner house, then…

* * *

The next day was a school day (thank God for that). Seymour walked out of the house he owned, but didn't really enjoy living in, to the school he looked after, and didn't really enjoy being in.

It was a normal Winter-time Day in the school. which meant Nelson pushing kids in Snow instead of Mud, Bart throwing Snowballs instead of Spitballs, Ralph making snow angels, and Edna not smoking in the hallways.

Really, were _There_ the next generation of the people running this town? _Pathetic_.

"Attention students, this is your principal speaking" he said through the Microphone, his voice undoubtedly being heard from the intercom devices in every corner of the school, "Due to the Low temperature, and the snow as you can see outside, You will NOT be allowed out in the schoolyard during Recess hours. Furthermore, The classes will be over by no later than half past one. That will be all"

He rolled his eyes.

Only half past one. He'd have to return to the house two hours sooner that normal. He didn't know what he'd do, but he'd need a _lot_ of pills to go through the day…

* * *

Over the course of the next two months, This was Seymour's life.

Waking up at seven by Agnes Skinner's 'alarm clock' [ **A.N: c'mon, you know what I'm talking about :P** ]. chugging down a mug of coffee, maybe with a marshmallow. Walking to school by eight, and waiting for the staff and the students to fill in.

Being the Principal until three: dealing with the pranks, the bullyings, and the kids. and finally returning to the house, back to Ms. Skinner's cheery attitude.

Eating dinner at eight, sleeping at nine, mostly on the couch, as Ms. Skinner didn't like him sleeping in the bed he owned, saying it was too 'comfy for a disappointment like you!'

But it wasn't until deep into march, when he finally snapped.

It was when the new Teacher, Ms. Barrera (as it is unprofessional of a principal to call his staff by first name, unless they're really _friendly_ ) left for Afghanistan after seeing her mother.

"My son, I just want to say I wish the four of you the best" she'd said, stopping in front of them.

Seymour Already knew what was coming next, but "the _four_ of us?" he had to ask.

"you, her, your model planes, and nude-y books" with the figurative mic falling, his dignity left, and So did Ms. Barrera.

For a second, he was silent, then Agnes began laughing cruelly, and left, skating like a pro as she left.

Simpson, eyes dancing with mirth (even if he had the sense not to laugh), said sympathetically, "hey, Seymour…Listen, wanna roast marshmallows?"

Seymour Smiled. Trust Bart Simpson to always have a positive attitude on life. "I'd like that"

Ignoring the 'great, man! Great! You're buying' and Agnes skating with Mr. Chalmers, he followed Simpson and his Crony to the school's backyard, roasting marshmallows over fire (burning from Bart's permanent record. God knew that book could do with a bit of tidying up. It wasn't like he wouldn't fill it in a week anyway)

A few hours later, the initial heartbreak had been over. Listening to the Other Simpson playing her Sax in the distance, he'd said "thank you, Simpson, that does feel better"

He sighed, as he looked up at the starry sky, "well, I guess a lot of women leave their men to go back and serve in Afghanistan…"

Simpson chuckled, "no one drives them away like your mother, Seymour"

He probably didn't mean it. most pranksters never did. But his words hit hard. All he could remember was Edna Krabappel, the other woman Agnes had drove away…

He narrowed his eyes, "you're surprisingly attentive for someone with ADHD, simpson"

Said Simpson snickered, "well, I'd have to be blind not to know that. Ms. K never shuts up about it in Class!" but then, looked at the time. "crap. I've got to take Lis' Home. You coming Milhouse?"

As Milhouse rose and the two of them left to the school, Seymour warmed his hands over the fire.

Simpson was right.

He may have been awkward, and he may have been a bit weird, old-fashioned, and to some degree strict. But Edna had basically _claimed_ that she was leaving him because of Agnes. And he couldn't ignore what had happened today.

He had to do something about this. it couldn't go on for much longer.

* * *

"You're late, Seymour!" said Ms. Skinner, eyes not leaving the TV, "what were you doing, crying? Pathetic" she snorted.

Seymour, no. he was not Seymour Skinner. He had no familial relationship to that vile woman. His name was Armin. Armin Tamzarian.

Armin said "shut the hell up" and walked to the TV, changing the channel to what _He_ wanted to watch.

"excuse me?" said the woman, "that's no way to talk to your mother!"

Armin turned towards her, "you seem to think like I'm your son. Your son escaped this city because of your horrible attitude, remember? I'm just the look-alike!" then, he said "have something to say, _mother_?"

Agnes said "shut up and listen to me, you ungrateful little-" "YOU are the only one in this house that's ungrateful! You're the one sitting on my couch, in my home, and talk trash to me!"

"is this about that woman? Don't blame your shortcomings on me, you stupid brat!"

Armin took a deep breath, and then said "this is the last straw, Skinner. Get the hell out of my house." He rose, walking to the door, and opening it, pointing at the cold outside. "I've had it. I'm calling the police!"

He walked over upstairs, not sparing a look at the gobsmacked woman.

About five minutes later, the police showed up. Clancy Wiggum, a school friend (and part-time rival, due to the rivalry between the volunteer Fire Department and the Police Department), with the other two.

"what's the problem here, Mr. Skinner?" asked Clancy as he straightened his belt, Armin said "this woman is trespassing here. I don't want her in my home"

Clancy blinked, "well, it was about time you snapped, I suppose." He turned at the woman, "Ma'am. You heard the man. You need to leave the property"

Agnes blinked, "what? I live here! This is my home!" "not according to this deed it isn't. This house was bought, paid for, and furnitured by one Armin Tamzarian. With no co-owner mentioned inside. You need to leave. Come, we'll escort you on the way out"

Armin smirked nastily, and turned towards the stairs, almost ready to walk up to his room, when he heard a shriek. Startled, he turned back, just on time to meet the knife coming towards his head.

Quickly grabbing the knife with two hands, he struggled and pulled it out of the deranged woman's hands, and said "assaulting the home owner too? You've had it, woman!"

Clancy and the other two, Lou and Eddie, dragged the vile woman outside, "Ms. Agnes Skinner, you are accused of trespassing, and home invasion. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say Can and Will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to receive a lawyer…"

As Clancy was reading the rights for the woman, Armin smiled.

He was finally free

* * *

By the next week, the school knew _something_ had changed about their principal. He wasn't as stiff, stern, and 'wiener' as he was the day before. The second graders, thank to Ralph Wiggum, knew about the story with Principal Skinner and his mom, but nobody knew the entire truth.

And he liked it that way better.

He was now free from the abuse of that woman, his life had turned for the better, for nobody was going to yell at him agai-

"SKINNER!"

Armin sighed, and said "come in, superintendent Chalmers", straightening his tie and shirt, he waited for the well-dressed man to enter the room.

"Mr. Chalmers, what can I do for you today"

"for one thing, you can explain to me why you've changed your name to 'Armin Tamzarian'. You're Seymour Skinner. It was decided by the court months ago!"

Armin said "I am free to my true Identity, and I've relinquished all right to the identity of 'Seymour Skinner' to its true owner, who's living his life in Capital city as a drill sergeant. I am Armin Tamzarian, Mr. Chalmers. What can I do for you today?"

Gary Chalmers smiled, "it's so good to see you drop that skinny boy attitude, Armin! I'm sure we'll have a great run with you as the new Principal of Springfield Elementary. Now, are there any changes you'd like to make?"

And as the two began discussing the terms of the changes Armin was planning to make, he Smiled.

His new life had just begun.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **Okay. The scene from the first part is based on the prank Bart and Charlie put on Skinner in S21E08 'Oh Brother, Where Bart Thou'**

 **The third paragraph goes through what happened in S27E11 'Teenage Mutant Milk-caused Hurdles', (when Bart, going through hormones, grew a crush on his teacher.), with one key change in Bart's Dialogue.**

 **Agnes' action in the episode (especially her cruel laugh afterwards) was exactly when I decided I HAD to write this.**

 **And the final scene is based on a few scenes with Seymour and Gary, where they're friends. I'm sure if he'd dropped his skinny boy attitude and returned to being the brave war hero he actually was, there wouldn't be so many 'SKINNER!' moments…**

 **And yes. Agnes Skinner is the one of the only characters in the entire Simpsons Universe that I do not find funny at all (even the Bullies, or Old man Abe are funny, despite their horrible personalities. Agnes doesn't have any) I abhor her, hate her as I would hate any person who'd abuse someone else.**

 **I know, Homer is an abusing father too (and, Jerkass homer (as many call the homer of that era) is not a favorite character of mine either), but Agnes Skinner is the only character that has** _ **no**_ **good traits in her personality. She's been the same, vile woman ever since we saw her first (and I do not note her appearance in 'Crepes of Wrath' as canon. Her personality took a 180 turn after the episodes)**

 **And, yes. I do not know whether Skinner's home is actually his or not (seeing as in some episodes, he lives with Agnes on the house on the hill near the school, and in some others they live elsewhere.) so, consider it a head-canon. Because Agnes has no job. There's no way she could've bought the house and paid for all the necessities by herself…**

 **Sorry for the long hiatus.**

 **Davoid, Signing off!**


	9. WishMaker's Mistake

**[A.N: hello folks! This could be counted an actual Simpson story, but I am planning to continue it (for another chapter) with a different idea…I think you'll understand what I mean when you read this…]**

* * *

 **three years ago**

 **[Lisa's POV]**

I still remember that day like it was yesterday.

It was on a snowy day. It was cold, no kid was around to play in snow with, and there was nothing Bart could actually do to entertain himself.

No electricity to watch TV, no electricity to play video games. No friends to build snowmen (or whatever it is that ten-year-old boys do on snowy days) with.

There was only one thing he _could_ do, and that was to come begging to his sisters, and try to be siblings for once.

But for once, we didn't need him. two girls can always entertain themselves, no need for a boy to butt in [ **A.N: oh Lisa, if only I knew the meaning of what I just said** ], and he left, his expression half sad and half angry. That expression, like always, brought a series of poorly-thought-out plans that failed horribly. It was amusing, but I couldn't help feel a bit sorry for him, when his latest plan failed.

It was, without a doubt, horribly amusing to watch Bart get caught by mom while he was getting rid of her pills (whatever _they_ might be. I didn't really know what those things were when I was eight), but it was a really serious wake-up call too.

Bart really wished he'd had brothers instead of me, her little sister.

Well, he couldn't have one. Or so I thought at first. But then, in complete Bart fashion, he went to an orphanage, to 'order up' a new little brother.

That ought've been the end of it, right? _wrong._ The next day, a new kid followed him home. A little boy, almost the same age as me, but a bit smaller, with pink hair and a mischievous streak as long as Bart's.

The kid was everything Bart wanted. A younger brother, interested in everything HE was (comic books, pranking people, skateboarding. You name It, he liked it), not a studious prick (as I used to be- well, I still am) or a preaching little sister.

I'll be honest with you. Aside from the whole morally wrongness of the shindig (which was, basically kidnapping an orphan for a day), I was really jealous. Here I was, his _only talking sister_ , and the guy actually didn't care about me!

My own Brother, the one I'd rescued from many things many times, the one who'd _saved_ me from ruining my life (by taking the blame for my stupid actions). The only brother I had, and he didn't want me.

Which lead to the scene in the snow-cave in later that day.

I came home from school. I already knew Dad thought the kid was Bart's new 'Friend' (who, in his opinion, was better than Milhouse. Though, that doesn't say much, as he thought I (in a boy's costume. Oh Nirvana, Malcolm Boyman? What was I thinking?) was a cooler friend that Milhouse

I also already knew Mom was, as per usual in Bart's Case, completely unaware of the whole thing.

Unless ABSOLUTELY critical, Mom never even knew what went on with Bart's life (mostly because Bart wasn't open about what went on in school to Mom and dad. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't know much if I wasn't _in_ the same school) It meant it was on me to guide Bart back to the right path!

"Dad. Do you know where Bart is?" I asked dad, not giving any reason for my particular curiosity. Dad, who was busy watching a movie didn't pay me much attention, saying "yeah, the boy's out with his new friend. Something about a movie"

So the Adult theater, right? Bart always went there for watching scary movies (and the stupid Ginger guy never noticed he wasn't an adult, what with his age, height, voice and everything)

I quickly wore my warmest clothes and got on my bike (I never knew why Bart didn't use that thing. He sure as hell loved it), riding towards the Adult Theater, when I found the kid hugging Chief Wiggum as Bart looked shocked.

Hah, the good old 'little orphan boy' approach. Didn't fail in the books, didn't fail in the movies. doesn't fail in Real Life.

Sure enough, they had begun running in two minutes, and Chief Wiggum was trying his best running after them.

I won't bore you with the details after that. I intercepted them somewhere, we began talking, snow caved us in, and Bart and Charlie 'heroically' rescued us.

The next day, I found out from Bart that Charlie had been adopted by a family consisted only of girls, and had moved out of Springfield, planning to start a new life somewhere else.

That must have been the end of it. surely the ending of the story so far as I was concerned.

The Status Quo had proved victorious, everything was back to normal. We were a family of five again, as it was, is now, and ever shall be!

 **Now**

 **[Bart's POV: age, 13]**

Sometimes, I wonder why I even try.

I'm not don't care about academical prowess. I know it, Late Ms. K. knew it, my teacher nowadays knows it, Lisa knows it, Milhouse knows it. EVERYONE KNOWS IT!

I'm not really academically inclined. I'm street smart and fare better in sports and mechanical stuff instead. I've told this to them _a hundred times,_ they should know by now, that the only way for me to improve my scores is to be threatened or tricked to do so.

I'm not an idiot. I can connect the dots. Whenever I _try_ not to make trouble, my grades begin changing from Fs and Ds to As and Bs. Whenever I am FORCED not to do any pranks (and only that, to be honest), I suddenly begin soaring in the school, getting good grades, kicking even Martin's ass in some things.

I also know, ONE of the reasons for me not getting a good grade has always been my ADHD. I can't pay attention.

But even the dumbest of the dumb, even Ralph Wiggum, would know by now, that I simply do. Not. Care.

I don't care about Academy. About school, about good grades. That's not my future.

My parents don't get it.

They still ground me (a thirteen-year-old kid, who can find ten ways of escaping from home just this mere moment) whenever I return with a bad grade. They still look at me with disappointed glares (in Homer's case with hands ready to go around my throat) whenever the latest principal calls home to say I have done something.

My home life sucks. I'm not being whiny here (ok, I am. Let's be honest, that's pretty much All I do these days that isn't fucking someone's life or screwing over someone with a 'harmless' prank), it really does.

Every day I have to see Lisa be praised for some award or the other, deal with Homer being fired from his job (and getting it back a few days later, miraculously), Mom breaking up with Homer and then making up with him, or Lisa b lonely (and someone who's never been to Springfield come and cheer her up)

This is terrifyingly, annoyingly, my home-life now. Homer's getting more and more dangerous when he's giving 'lessons' to me, Lisa's getting more and more preachy and hypocritical, Mom's been reduced to groaning unless something important happens, and I'm pretty sure Maggie Still has that pacifier of hers.

That's why, on my Thirteenth birthday, when Lisa got the memo from the School that she was student of the month for five consecutive years, I decided I couldn't take it anymore! I was _not_ going to remain in this house one minute longer.

So I left. I left and went to Milhouse's, the two of us against the world. Well, whining and nagging mostly, but you get the idea.

It was about then, that I realized how Milhouse had it better than me. parents who understood him, who cared about him, a life without worry of being outdone by someone else! a family where everyone CARED about him, paid attention to him, and actually vied for his attention and love!

His life was quite obviously better than mine!

And the reason was obvious! He didn't have any sisters! Or, better put, he was a single child!

That, as I used to say back in the day (okay, used to say so I could get more viewers), really makes you think!

And it did. When I began skateboarding back to 742, it really made me think…

My two sisters! If they didn't exist, if Dad hadn't had another…eh…accident after me, My life would surely be better! There was no way I could be wrong [ **A.N: Bart, you dumb fool!** ]

Later that evening, during our dinner (as per tradition eaten in front of the TV in the living room) I couldn't help notice how Lisa got the spotlight every second, and how Maggie was playing so innocently with her toys nearby.

And on that night, a night with the full moon and with the dogs all over the neighborhood howling for some reason, I went to bed with one and only one thing on my mind.

Saying it as strongly, firmly and self-assuredly as I could, I closed my eyes thinking ' _I wish I didn't have two sisters!_ '

* * *

The Next day, I woke up, not in my room, but in a room completely white. With a desk, a few comic books, a small PSP, and a wardrobe being the entire decoration of it.

I looked up, _hubbawha?_ Hearing a lot of loud noises outside.

I wasn't in my room. _I wasn't in my room_!

I thought _has my prayer been answered?_ Wondering whether I'd open the door to see a big mansion or a penthouse apartment, I jumped off the bed, wincing in pain as I landed on my feet. I'd _miscalculated_ the jump.

I walked to the door. Reaching for the knob. Like always, I'd expected to just open the door, but I couldn't reach it! I had to go on my toes to get it, _what in the-_

And I opened the door, closing it almost immediately. Taking deep breaths, I rubbed my eyes, _Suffering Succotash! Where the hell am I?_

I opened the door again, this time more slowly, and ran for the bathroom on the other side of the hall.

Even before I could take one step, a girl with braces, a safety helmet, a bike and a large-ass boomerang was riding straight towards me, like a bull running at the guy with the red cape, only my perfect physical skills helped me jump over him, roll, and continue my running.

Another brace-y girl with a smoking vial ran near me, screaming 'Itsh gunna Exshplode!' as I looked at another girl eating imaginary tea by a table for four.

Near her, another girl was jamming with her guitar, playing some Bon Jovi, a girl almost as white as Sherri was reading from a page in her hands, two more girls were fighting over some shirt or something, while there was a _giant_ pile of Laundry behind them. (and believe me, I know what I'm saying when I say it was a giant pile)

A toddler, was walking with a goofy smile, stark-naked.

I laid by the wall, covering my nose, as I tried to catch my breath.

Another brace-y girl (this one particularly older than the other two) looked at me with a manic look in her eyes, a pie in her hand, _oh no_. I ducked the incoming pie and dived towards the bathroom.

Closing the room, I took a deep breath.

Only to see a girl as young as the princess-y one playing with some wrenches and the sink.

 _Good grief_ was all I could think, a moment before water began flooding the room and pushing me out of the broken bathroom door.

Sliding down the stairway, I noticed every single one of the said girls having a picture on the wall. There was no Bart Simpson (or any other boy, for that matter)

Still running like crazy, I ran to the bathroom downstairs, and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

There were no words more fitting that those of my old Principal.

 _Oh, Bart. Classic Wishmaker's Mistake_.

 ** _What had I gotten myself into?_**

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **Hey guys, *ducks under cover as tomatoes fly towards him*, eh…sorry for my long-ish hiatus.**

 **See, thing is. This story was in Progress even before I published Barthood. (chapter 5 I believe), and I am working on some of the stories you guys suggested (and thanks to Trevor the Enchanter, Lolathe jazz re (guest reviewer), Lily Nirvana and Naruto Loves FemKyuubi** **for their suggestions.) but They won't be completed (or, in case of emergency, in a state that can be published) anytime soon. So, I may go into a hiatus. If I do, you can expect me to write a follow-up for this story (seeing as it ends in sort of a cliffhanger)**

 **Three cheers for anyone who could guess where Bart ended up with!**

 **Until later,**

 **Davoid, signing off**


	10. Insider's View

**A.N: the following story is based** _ **loosely**_ **on the third section of THOH X**

* * *

It didn't really settle in, thirty minutes after we'd boarded the rocket. Even as I reclined in the comfy seat, I half-expected Bart to make faces at me, or be hanging from the handles above the seats like a monkey. I still expected dad to groan at something, or goof around with Bart, or complain childishly about something or the other.

Even a half-hour after it happened, I wasn't used to the fact the male side of my family was gone.

No more Bart. No more Homer.

No one was laughing at me, or making fun of me, or cheering me up after making fun of me.

No one was trying to annoy me, or argue with me on my choices, or trying to make me join him in some crazy scheme.

I was all around.

When I looked around, no one sat around me. The rows before and after me were empty on both sides, there were only mom and Maggie, dutifully looking at the earth we were leaving, somewhere on which I'd left two of my own blood for dead without a second of hesitation.

I was _quarantined_. Like an outcast, a pox, an undesirable.

But… _why?_

Wasn't I one of Springfield's 'Best and Brightest'? one of the few people worth saving? ('proof reader', what a _joke_ )

Then why was I still the outcast? The one nobody talked to? What had I done wrong?

After a while, the silence and ignoring got a bit annoying, too annoying for me to ignore. "Mum!" I said.

She was still looking at earth, now a red-and-blue dot in the distance, as one of the two rockets near us changed course towards the sun. a grimace was on her face, like she was angry at me, but too tired to actually say anything.

Like that one time Bart had been caught shoplifting at the mall on Christmas. She wasn't nagging, or looking at me with an accusing glare. She was _deliberately_ ignoring me.

But…why?

What could I _possibly_ do to make her so-

Oh.

Right.

"Mum", I tried again, this time my tone less complaining and more desperate. "I can't do this alone, I- "

She sighed loudly, "your father may act like a baboon at times, Lisa. He may be a bit uncaring, or immoral. But what you did today was wrong on _so many levels_ SIDESHOW BOB wouldn't do it on Bart."

We both ignored an indignant 'HEY' from bob, "he's never been a bad father to you. He's always there for you when you needed him. he's always supporting of your beliefs, even if he disagrees with basically all of them. He's been working his butt off in a poisoned environment that's been slowly killing him for eight years, so _you_ can go to college, and make fun of him for never finishing high school. he'd give anything for you, _including_ your own brother. I would expect Bart to do this, if _really under pressure_ , and with a **lot** of hesitation. You didn't even hesitate for a second before crossing him off your life, and ending his"

 _Sigh_ , not knowing who I exactly I was trying to justify my actions to, I mumbled "that guy said I could only pick- "

She rose, snapping at me "LOOK AROUND YOU! There are sixteen seats empty just near us! Does this look like we _didn't_ have space for two more people?" she rolled her eyes, "if you're making excuses, you need to do better. Your brother and your father are dead, because the _one_ time you're _supposed_ to question the status quo, you don't. how can you even be relaxing on that seat?"

 _You think I don't ask that myself?_ I thought desperately, _I've lost my-the two boys I like, probably forever, and there's no one here to blame but me!_

Even _Milhouse_ was looking at me with disgust. _Milhouse!_

'I want you to remember me forever as I am right now! Seething in murderous rage!'

NO! I refuse to think about them like that!

Bart should be remembered like he was when he'd triumphed against bob for the umpteenth time, like when he felt satisfied of a prank done right. as he looked at me with undying brotherly affection! Not with that sad, fate-accepting, depressed expression he wore this morning.

Dad should be remembered as the man who listened to me with patience as I lamented, once more, about my depression. As the _father_ who was my greatest supporter at my latest 'society changing' movement! Not as the man who'd come to look at he, his own daughter, with utmost hatred. Even if he was completely justified to do so.

As we got into mars' atmosphere, and prepared for landing, I couldn't help sobbing as I leaned my head to the window next to my seat.

Another rocket, one with the Springfield isotopes symbol on it, took one of the designated landing areas, and as our rocket began freefalling, and I could _see_ the fraction fire as we landed, I couldn't help hope Bart and dad were in the group of three that was leaving the rocket.

I could ask for forgiveness. Make it up to them somehow. Buddha knows dad was _incapable_ of holding a grudge, and Bart had always been lenient with me. Even though I never was. Heavens know if Bart wasn't unbelievably, _cartoonishly_ lucky, he'd been six feet in the ground after all the times I'd left him alone at the worst possible moment.

Maybe _that_ was why he, the underachieving lazy hellish prankster, was the most popular, and I was not.

* * *

 **Bart's POV**

"so, son!" said homer, trying for a cheerful tone minutes after the rocket left, "the women in our life have finally left us!"

He's trying his best to remain the funny guy who always cheers the family up. Normally it would work. But he was too shell-shocked/depressed to put the minimal effort on the condescending tone that made these things funny.

It wasn't funny. Even for the sake of dramatic irony.

That had _REALLY_ happened. Even _nelson_ and the bullies (fucking bastards as they were) were seemed to be worthier for rescue than me and homer.

'and _proof reader_? Please. That's just a cop-out' said the cruel voice of honesty inside my head, 'everyone's left you, like they always do!' the voice laughed cruelly, 'you're gonna _die_ alone!'

I rolled my eyes, _'you'd die with me too, idiot. If you don't have any ideas, shut up!'_

This was going to be hard, Homer was generally hopeless in rational thinking, and Lisa was the one who figured out last-second plans anyway. I looked around, two other rockets were loading, one getting full of B-list celebrities. Some of them I wouldn't watch, even in a hot seat show.

The other had Frink's emblem on it. the Springfield Ico-otopes symbol.

'say, didn't Johnny boy owe us a favor?' I chuckled evilly as the voice in my head suggested.

"Bart! Here's another rocket! Hurry up before it-" homer pointed at the b-list rocket, I sighed, "No, homer. I have a bad feeling about that-" he dismissed "oh, what do you know about-"

'oh for the love of-' I sighed, "Homer, if you trust me on this, there's a six-pack of duff waiting for you"

"Mm…Bear!" said homer absentmindedly, Following me.

Good old predictable homer.

* * *

"Sorry, Simpson. I don't have any room left for free-loaders, Muh-awin'!" said Frink, too busy chasing one of his robots to even look at me, "Come on, prof! I'm begging you here, we'll be stranded! We'll die!" he scoffed, "you what, missed the public rocket?"

I blinked, "Public rocket? Like what, Public transportation?" I huffed, "they just took the best and the brightest"

He deadpanned, "Cletus was in that rocket" he shook his head, "apart from the death-row prisoners, you're the only ones here, sweet smothering glavins, don't tell me they didn't let you in!"

I nodded, "They didn't. I really need this, prof. let us hitch a ride, and we'll-"

He sighed, "alright Simpson, you win. You and the baboon over there" he pointed at Homer, "can come, but you'll owe me for this"

'don't mention he's the one who owes you. You can figure out the details later' said the truth voice, to which I agreed, "thanks prof, you're the best"

"oh whatever, just for Einstein's saggy glavins make the baboon behave"

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Frink left us in one of the rooms he'd built for his older inventions (many of which were too old and rusty to work anyway) and the rocket took off, marginally faster than the public rocket.

When we saw the B-list celebrity rocket change course _towards the sun_ , homer blinked, "well I'll be damned, you saved us, boy!" he laughed, "is it pathetic that I can be bribed with a six-pack of beer?"

I rolled my eyes, "not pathetic, Homer. Just predictable. Every human has his price, yours is just cheaper."

I shrugged, "well, we've left our old life. Evergreen terrace, Springfield, Earth! Out with the old, In with the new! And that's exactly what I'm gonna do! I'll show those pompous fools who's the 'best and brightest'!" I said, Pounding my fist into the other.

And I meant it! there was _no way_ I was letting Lisa think she was the smart one anymore. She wants a challenge? I'll give her one!

Homer said "and _I_ will change too, boy! I'm gonna do what I should've ten years ago!"

'get a vasectomy?' I almost asked, but he continued, "I'm gonna be a good man and a respectable father!"

Apparently the quickness of Lisa, her favorite kid, had hit him hard. To be sentenced to death by the child you _actually_ care about can do that to you.

Well, the better for us, he'll be a good father, oh, and- "And I'm finding a real job! One I like and know about! Mr. Burns can go-" I interrupted, "-Eat my shorts!" I laughed nervously, "he can go eat my shorts!"

Well. the actual conversation didn't go _exactly_ like that, but there's no way I'm typing all that, some of it is personal.

You get what I mean, though. New world, here we come!

* * *

Even on mars, Lines for legal Immigration are rowdy and loud.

Fortunately, Frink's rocket was faster than the public rocket (and Quimby's personal one, of course) and we were part of the first batch to get to the guard.

"name" said the man with a bored tone. _You're in MARS, man! How can you be bored!_ Homer said "Homer and Bart Simpson, Sir" the man said "just a minute" Checking for the IDs in his computer, Homer and I crossing our fingers, hoping the guard would let us pass.

'what if you're rejected? Would they like, leave you on the ground, ship you back, kill you?' said the truth voice, 'and stop calling me 'truth voice!', it's Hugo'

I rolled my eyes, **we'll figure something out, don't you worry** even though I was pretty worried myself too.

"Ah, here it is! Homer Jay Simpson and Bartolomeo Jojo Simpson. man you gut have the weirdest middle names!" he muttered, both of us blushing in embarrassment, "well, here it is, Springfield Plant, vault ET742. here's your vault keys, sir." He handed us five keys, and said "please wait by the ferry while the others join you. Your designated Charon will meet you after the ferry is full" and dismissively said "next", for Prof. Frink who had his giant-ass rocket packed into a suitcase and was standing before us.

* * *

 **Lisa's POV**

The ride was comfy, as long as I could ignore the other kids shaking their heads at me and my conscience nagging at me. Which meant, since I couldn't play my Sax, I had an awful trip.

'The Rocket will now land in the designated landing spot. All passengers are required to leave the rocket when the guards escort them, and admit their ID to be checked in the Identification center" said the rocket's pilot from the intercom, "you will be issued a key-card for your Vault, good day"

A few agonizing minutes later, the rocket landed near the frink-rocket (which turned into a suitcase he picked up and carried). Near the ID center, two people were in space suits. A boy and a man, to be exact.

And of whom really looked like Homer if he had _D'oh_ ed.

How in the great nirvana did they get here _first?_

"Mom, is that-" I asked Marge, who was blinking at the two people, now near a retro-style lift which a man in a black suit was guarding.

Mom sighed, "let's get into the line, Lisa. Just hope Homer hasn't reserved the entire vault for him and Bart, or we're screwed"

And we stood in the line, half the population of Evergreen Terrace in front of us. I could see the Van Houtens, Muntzes, Princes, Thompsons and Flanders in front of us. Taylor's and Janey's family weren't there. Probably behind us.

Seriously, how are the _muntzes_ part of the best and the brightest of anything? I've dated the guy, and even I wouldn't bet on him being good at anything but bullying people.

No, wait. Scratch that. How is _Cletus_ and his family part of the best and the brightest?

Every minute that passed I was getting more and more doubtful about the words those guards had said. Fortunately, we were not _that_ far from the ID center, and we were there by the next half hour.

"Name?" asked the guard, "Marge, Maggie, and Lisa Simpson" she said, and the guard checked them, before shrugging and saying "someone else has received the keys. Please go to the ferry in front of you, you can join the rest of your family."

Once we'd joined the big bunch of people in space suits hanging near the lift (or as the ID guy had called it, the ferry), no one talked to us. For me it was good, it meant no jeers, boos, or insults. For mom it was even better, she could find the big group talking to Homer and Bart. She grabbed my hand, and said "Lisa, honey. I know it might be a bit hard, but I need you not to talk for the next few hours. We're already on the rocks with your father and brother, we don't need to make it worse. Wait until I can see how much trouble we're in with them"

* * *

Yeah. We were in a _lot_ of trouble with them. Bart wasn't even looking at me, and Homer, that one guy always on my side, was looking through me, like I wasn't even there.

"homer" said marge. Dad replied warmly, "Marge! We were waiting for you!" Bart said with a tone of surprise "we were?" for which homer nudged him indiscreetly.

"I got our home key-cards. Why don't we wait for this Charon guy to show up?" asked Homer, in a highly-generous tone. And we did.

The five of us stood by (well, Maggie was being held. But you get the point) awkwardly, so unlike any other time we were on a trip, adventure or any sort of thing.

No one said anything, not Bart, not Homer, and not Marge. The only sound as from Maggie whining for her pacifier (that, as you might imagine, wasn't nearby. Us being in space suits and all)

We waited for a few more minutes, until the last of our line had gotten their key-cards, then when they joined us in the lift, the man in black space suit entered the lift.

"alright people." He said, "let's get this done and over with! We're taking you to your Vaults, so I'll explain the basics while this Ferry gets to the EGT wing."

 _EGT wing, huh? Why is that similar to Evergreen Terrace?_

"each vault has two living quarters, one for the adults, and one for the teens and younger. You will settle down until 2300-sharp, at which points it will be lights out. The waking call is 0900, every day. You'll get your work assignments on a bulletin board on the walls of your vault door. Do you understand?"

We all nodded, a few even saying "YESSIR!"

Bart didn't. "what's this, a prison?" he said with a scoff, the Charon replied "no, son. Actually, this is what's going to happen to the second worst town in our entire country. Right after Quahog, Rhode Island. You're being quarantined from the rest. After a year or so, the officials will leave, with necessary supplies sent to you annually. In five years, you are going to be one of the first city-estates on mars."

Milhouse said "you're throwing us out of the earth? So, was the 'Y2K' thing just a scam?" "positive" "but why?"

"son, your town is declared a _national_ wasteland. A big grey dot on our green planet. You're a _security threat_ to our country, as you proved in the trappocino incident." He sighed, "Be grateful you're not Quahog. We had to nuke them, and _nuke strike_ was on the table for you too. It was this, nuking, or the diadect treatment. And believe me, that would _not_ be pretty."

A vision of six teenagers with godly powers wrecking terror on Shelbyville came into my mind, followed by one with a psychopathic Bart almost Axe-ing Homer, and one with a destroyed Springfield.

He was right, the diadect treatment would _not_ be pretty.

Our ride ended thirty minutes later, where we were stopped by ET-742, and entered our vaults.

A new life was waiting for us.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **This story was written while I was in chemistry class, was _really_ bored, and hadn't watched that particular episode for a long time. I mistakenly thought the line the family was in had the Flanders in it too, which made me believe it wasn't exactly a bus for the best and the brightest.**

 **I can legitimately say this was the only time I ever** _ **really**_ **cringed at Classic Lisa (well. if you consider season 11 lisa** _ **Classic**_ **)**

 **No more comment** **s. If you really don't know what I mean by the last paragraph, rewatch The Simpsons, this time more carefully…**

 **So, I could end this here. But I could also work another chapter as an ending with Bart, Homer and Lisa reconciling (?) and an epilogue. (though, in that case, I'd have to publish it as a separate story later)**

 **I'll let you guys decide.**

 **Davoid signing off.**


	11. Life Isn't Fair

[AU on the episode 'Separate Vocations']

* * *

Despite what Most would believe, Seymour Skinner was neither deaf, nor a moron. he couldn't be, he had led a platoon in a warzone. He also _happened_ to be exactly ten feet away from the Boy when he started talking to his sister.

How idiotic did they _think_ he was? He'd heard it with his own ears:

"Lisa!" the Boy had said, shock _evident_ in his voice. The Girl had banged the door closed, _loud enough for WILLIE to wake up,_ as she'd said "That's right, Bart. It was I!"

"Lis', Why did you _do_ it?" the boy had said. Seymour could tune out the difference between the shock coming out of 'how could you do that to me!' and 'Why would you even DO it'. Simpson was definitely not expecting her sister to do a crime like that.

"Oh come ON bart, in your old days, _you_ knew the giddy thrill of futile rebellion!"

"Yeah, but even _I_ had my limits! This is no defacing of school property or cherry bombing the toilets, You're looking at _expulsion_ for this!"

Lisa had said, with a tone of real misery, "I know, _I know!_ " and had begun crying.

For god's sake, if they expected him not to notice that, they were really dumb!

"the BOOKS!" he jumped to the few books Simpson had thrown down before finding out who's locker he was searching, and for drama's sake continued "oh, answers, ANSWERS! Simpson you just saved the school one hundred and twenty dollars! Do you know who's behind this monstrous crime?"

Almost seriously expecting the boy to point fingers and the girl to deny all.

Simpson's answer was something he was sure _no one_ in the whole town would expect.

"I am"

* * *

Thirty minutes later, with Lisa safely sitting in one of the nearby classes, eavesdropping on the two (as was known by none of them), Seymour had Bart in his room, negotiating for the number of days he was going to spend in detention.

"now, Bart. In light of your recent services to the school, I've decided to be lenient. Before I give you your punishment, I'm going to ask one question from you first"

Bart, who was looking smug until now, said "huh?"

"What in the name of our holy lord were you thinking, stealing all the books and then accidentally _opening_ the locker, revealing the location to me? it just…it just doesn't fit your MO" Said Seymour, with a glint in his eyes that showed he knew something. "surely, you didn't forget where you'd hid the books, you _must_ have known not to open that particular locker. Even if you _were_ planning on revealing the location, it would be likelier for you to make sure _I_ would find it instead, with a letter from you nearby" he shook his head, "you may fool everyone, boy, but I've seen your recent exam papers. even if you _were_ using the answer books to get better exams, that would show some degree of intelligence. This is the work that nobody could pull out, unless they were dumber than Ralph Wiggum"

Bart rolled his eyes, "sorry to have disappointed you, principal Sucker. Now, what's my sentence? I've got some bragging to get to back home"

Principal skinner rolled his eyes as well, "Come off it, Bart. We both know you aren't the one who should be punished! you _couldn't_ have stolen all those books; you were never out of my sight!"

Bart gulped, and Skinner continued, "much as I loathe your actions before your sudden change, you've never done anything this severe. No, I think you're taking the proverbial bullet for someone else." He slammed his palms to the desk, startling the young Simpson (oh, interrogation techniques, god bless you) "and I know who the particular _someone_ is!" waiting a second for Drama's sake, " _Lisa Simpson_ , your little Sister!"

Bart paled, and unknown to him, so did Lisa, Skinner continued "yes! How much of a fool did you take me for? I was right _there_ when you had your little heart-to-heart with her! Did you think I'd really believe you?"

Bart scratched the back of his neck as he gulped.

On any other situation, he'd have fessed up by now. Didn't matter if it was Milhouse, Nelson, the Bullies, Martin or Ralph. He _would_ have fessed up by now, and leave the room with his reputation tarnished and his permanent record intact. But he couldn't. Lisa wasn't Milhouse or Nelson. Lisa he'd see every day in his life, she was _literally_ the only thing in his life that he wouldn't ever leave. God knew his Friendship with Milhouse wouldn't last as long as his _siblingship_ with Lisa. It simply _couldn't_!

He couldn't do that to her. This would mean _expulsion_. Bart might not care much for school, but Lisa did. He couldn't take that away from her.

"I'm taking the blame, Seymour. I can't ruin Lisa's life" he said, bravely.

"hmm. I see." Skinner nodded, "And did it ever occur to you, that there was no way we would actually do anything severe to the smartest girl in our school?"

He said "Lisa is one of the five smartest students in the whole school district, she's basically carrying the dead weight of this school behind her." He shook his head, "there's no way I'd antagonize her enough for the school to lose that. You can rest easy, Simpson. nobody will know of what's happened here when we leave this room. Nobody but you, and me"

Bart took a deep breath, and said "so, now that we both know it's Lisa, you're telling me you're not doing anything to her? Not even a day of detention?" Seymour said "right on point, Simpson. nobody will know. So far as the teachers know, the mysterious thief, the 'twisted individual' if you will, forgot one thing, and that was Hall Monitor Simpson's impressive talent of being where he's not supposed to be. I get the books, you get an even better reputation, and Lisa remains safe. What say you?"

"So, what you're saying is, I would have gotten expulsed, or at best had gotten a three digit number days of detention, and Lisa's getting off without even a slap on the wrist?"

Mr. Skinner walked away from his desk, turning towards the wall and staring out of the window, to the fields that could be seen, and said "Life isn't fair, Bart. You won't _always_ receive equal treatment. Sometimes you won't get what others do. The sooner you learn this, the better" he sighed, "so, What say you, Simpson? we have a deal?"

Bart looked at the ground with his eyes narrowed, clenched his fists, looked up.

.

.

.

And nodded. With a mildly calm tone, one that was betrayed only by the fire in his eyes, he said "you have a deal, Sir. May I be excused? I have some things to think about."

Without turning back, he said "tell you what, Simpson? you get a free pass for the next week. I won't read any note Ms. Krabappel sends to me about you, unless it's good news"

Bart rolled his eyes, his anger slowly fading into disappointment, "Thank you, Sir. Good afternoon"

* * *

"Bart, I-" Lisa said, grabbing bart's hand to thank him once again, but he shook away his hand, and said "not now, Lis'. Let's just go home" as he jumped on his skateboard.

On the way back home, neither of them talked, Bart skateboarding and Lisa on her bike, both of them looking at the road, awkwardly hoping they could reach home.

They were silent for almost half the way, neither wishing to open a conversation.

Lisa was wishing she wasn't riding a bike, so she could fiddle with her fingers, she knew what had happened, and doubted anything she said would calm bart down. 'Tis Better not tickle a sleeping dragon after all.

Until they reached home, and Lisa locked her bike inside the garage, where Bart grabbed her arm, and said "I have something to tell you, Lis'"

"What is it, Bart?" asked Lisa, a little nervous at the sight of his big brother's grim look.

"Skinner knew. He knew it was you, and the only reason you're not getting expulsed or a _lot_ of detentions, is that You've had a Spotless record ever since you entered the school"

Lisa looked at Bart suspiciously "Why are you telling me this? are you jealous?"

"Are you crazy? OF course I'm not jealous! The Only reason I'm telling you this is that we can be clear on one thing. the moment we walk through that door, you're gonna drop this stupid notion that you don't have any other choice but being a homemaker simply because of that stupid test. You're returning to the _Lisa Simpson_ we both know. The one that had such a reputation that stealing all the teacher's edition books didn't do anything to it. you're the only one of us who has any chance leaving this stupid town for a better place, and I for one can't stand to see you destroy that simply because of that stupid test. so you're going to drop the stupid attitude, and do what you need to be successful in your plans. Capiche?"

Lisa gulped, but nodded, Bart let go of her arm, and then said "this conversation never happened", before opening the door and walking into the house.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **The idea from this chapter came from the basic notion that Seymour Skinner doesn't have a hearing problem.**

 **I am still running short on ideas as it is (I have a few things I'm working on, but the number is too low), so I'm still open to all suggestions (Review or PM, please)**

 **Thank you.**

 **Davoid, Signing off**


	12. Duffless

[ **the sole reason I wrote this was to show that Lisa** _ **was**_ **an A-hole, even back in the Classic Simpsons. She was just more sympathetic back then, which made us ignore it.** ]

* * *

"I won again! I won again!" gloated Bart in a sing-along tone, as Mom took them home, pointing at his "1st" Ribbon, and at the box with his new hamster in it.

Of course now that he'd completed his scheme, he had no idea what to do with the poor creature (that if Bart's bluff on 'everyone loves the cute exhibition' hadn't worked, would've had to fly. And probably crash onto some poor bloke's experiment and die)

Oh well, he could always feed it to the cat. Or put it in the same cage Lisa's hamster and watch the hilarity that would unfold.

Who knew what would happen?

"Quit it! quit it quit it quit it quit it QUIT IT!" complained Lisa, nagging when Bart didn't, " _Mom_!"

Mom sighed, not taking her eyes off the road. With Homer's driver's license revoked (and him not likely to get a new one soon), she couldn't risk anything. She just said in her usual long-suffering tone, "Bart, don't be a bad winner"

 _So like mom_ , he thought, (as he didn't, as a matter of fact, stop being a bad winner, still pointing at his ribbon and making faces when she knew Lisa would be looking at him), _not caring about the actual problems_

He knew what Lisa had done. And if the flying Hamster idea hadn't been on his mind at the time, he would have seriously, undoubtedly, gotten rid of the animal, her 'experiment results' notebook and put it on a show in an exhibition most grotesque in Lisa's room, not to mention TP her living place, even after she'd died.

He knew it because of this movie dad had gotten for him years ago, to teach him how to read time.

 _Ohhhhhh_ , how he shuddered when he thought about it. scarier than even the old clown bed (that they'd gotten rid of as soon as Lisa had needed a bed. Even though Homer was ready to just buy one for Lisa, Bart being a 'irredeemable bastard' had made sure he'd buy one for him too). That movie had partly been why he'd become like this now. Well, that and the fact he needed to show he existed in _some_ way. God knew they wouldn't notice him on a normal day, not with _cute, smart, different_ Lisa around.

It was always like this, though. _Ooh look, Lisa can read at Six! Who cares that bart's driving a car better than half the people in town, at the age of eight?_ _Bart's TPed the principal's office? Let's let Homer strangle him! Who cares that LISA TRIED TO DESTROY THE ENTIRE CITY'S FOOD SOURCE just because she thinks killing animals is barbaric? Bart isn't getting As in his tests? No desert for him for the rest of the month! Who cares that Lisa tried to steal every single teacher's edition book in the school in a petty temper tantrum that BART got blames for?_

Bart was sick of it. his own family, (apart from his dog and his toddler sister, though _she_ would probably join the rest of them soon enough) would forget him the moment he'd lay low. He couldn't do that. He would literally be forgotten (as he had, once, been left with grandpa Abe for three months, back when he had a house of his own) until someone needed a scapegoat.

He winced, and then said "mom. Why do you always think it's me who's done something wrong?"

The two women in the car began laughing, as if the answer was obvious. When he didn't laugh with them, Mom stopped, "oh. You were being serious…"

Mom gulped, and said "sweety, listen…it's because you're the boy who cried wolf!"

Bart yelled "stop acting like Homer, Mom! It's not funny when _He_ does it either!" with a broken sob.

That was it. he wasn't even faking it. he was _truly_ , _utterly_ desperate for them to at least once give him the benefit of the doubt.

Marge's eye twitched, but she didn't say anything, and that was the incentive Bart needed, "Lisa, my _innocent little sister_ has been _electrocuting_ me, experimenting Sci-Fi psychological theories on me like a Guinee pig the whole month, not that you would care when it's Lisa who's doing it, and no one actually gave a crap! Then, I win a contest, _for the first time in my life_ , and that's the support I get?"

He looked at the window, pouting and not paying attention to the two women anymore.

As Lisa was fuming at Bart once more being a 'bratty brother', Marge frowned, "Lisa, is what your brother said true?" she frowned, "did you do anything?"

Lisa pouted, "It was purely for the sake of science!" Bart rolled his eyes, "you were just mad I'd dropped that big tomato on Skinner. Admit it so we can move on to more important matters, like how you were acting like one of the psychiatrists from a Clockwork Orange." He looked at Mom, "oh, I'm sorry, is that an important matter? Or should we still talk about how I was a bad winner?"

It of course, didn't work. Mom may have heard what Bart had said, but the truth is, Mom was right. Bart _was_ the boy who cried wolf.

it wasn't Surprising that Lisa still managed to talk her way out of any punishment that night when they went home, but _Bart_ knew better than to trust Homer and Mom to do the right thing.

He already knew what he had to do (which, he got from one of Homer's favorite movies, thank you very much). Sneaking into Lisa's room wasn't that hard (Lisa was by no means a light sleeper), with a pair of WalkmanTMs in his hands, as he snickered softly.

If Lisa wanted to test one of _A Clockwork Orange_ 's _theories_ on Bart, then she'd get her due.

As he turned on the two music players, one about a Holocaust documentary and the other her Favorite Jazz Mixtape, he smirked lightly.

Time to test a theory!

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **As you can see, the ending is kinda open, you're free to interpret It in any way you want.**

 **You'll get internet kudos if you can guess what Bart did to Lisa as Revenge (it's a rather common Psychological Practice, even though the actual one isn't generally used for reasons like the one Bart has)**

 **Also, Almost EVERYTHING I said through Bart's thoughts was actually Canon.**

 **I wrote this, for one and only one reason. To show you guys that Lisa hasn't really CHANGED, and neither has Bart (he's the same Jerk he used to be back then. The standards of the 21** **st** **century's the thing that changed. Lisa used to be a preacher even back then (almost as soon as she became a Vegetarian, if you're really critic, even as early as S02E13 (Homer Vs. Lisa and the Eighth commandment)) the only reason we seem to notice the 'small' differences are because of some notion of Nostalgia. well, that and the fact Preachy!Lisa was something that didn't appear on Screen that often (read the same for Whiner!Bart and Jerkass!Homer)**

 **And, after 12 chapters, I'm starting to think Maybe I should write a few Lisa Centric, Bart Bashing one-shots too. I have a few scenarios in mind, But I'm open to suggestion. as Always.**

 **Until later,**

 **This is Davoid, Signing off**


	13. Li'l Bastard's Revenge

In the death of night, with the incompetent policemen sleeping at their post, a young man of forty with unruly red hair crept in the shadows. No guard saw him, and no inmate dared report him, for 'tis the law of outlaws not to snitch.

Very easily he sneaked to the damp cell of his target. His ever-fleeting life-long nemesis. His most unhealthy obsession. The bane of his existence.

The cell was damp and stereotypically filthy, darkness surrounded the only person inside, with only a lightbulb over his head. Inside the cell, a boy of mere eighteen was sitting on a chair, head over the piece of paper he was oh-so-seriously writing on.

When the prisoner saw him, he concentrated on the paper. He used all his mental control not to snap, to look objectively. This was a necessity, and he was curious, nothing more.

Soon, he picked the outdated lock and entered the cell, crept behind the boy, raised his butcher's knife over his head, and with an evil grin worthy of Dracula himself, he-

"well if it isn't Robert Terwilliger! Long time no see!" said the boy as he casually swirled his chair (not caring that it is supposed to be impossible to swirl a prison chair), his usual smirk on his face, even though his eyes didn't shine as they normally did.

Sideshow bob Growled, "Bart Simpson."

* * *

Ten minutes later, with Bob sitting on the bottom bunk bed and looking at him, Bart said "why are you here, Bob?"

Bob smirked "why, can't a man visit an old friend?"

Bart raised an eyebrow. Another thing _she_ was better at, and had never taught him. "with a butcher's knife, sneaking in the said friend's room? That's not how it goes, Bob. I know you don't leave the knife, but that doesn't mean other people don't get worried."

He stopped, and said "besides, you made quite the effort breaking in. you want something."

There. There was the genius that had foiled his plans more times that he cared to admit. The genius hidden so elegantly beneath layers and layers of carefully drawn public image. He already knew the underachiever persona was a front, but even he never thought the boy could get rid of it so easily.

"correct, Bart. I'm here to ask an important question." "I'm listening!" " **Why are you Here?** " screamed the criminal mastermind.

Bart looked at him, glancing one of _her_ glares, his posture screaming _I'm tired of your shit, Bob._ And explained slowly, "well, Bob. When someone does something bad, or gets framed for it, he either gets here, or gets away with it. I couldn't get away with it."

Bob closed his eyes, counting to twenty-five before calming down. It wouldn't do well to mutilate the boy now.

Then, in clenched teeth, he said "I meant why. What did you do?" "stole from old Monty Burns. I'm sure you remember him." He paused, and smirked, "well I'll be damned. I'll tell you the entire story!

"it was two years ago, just three weeks after my 18th birthday…

* * *

Bart's Memory

 _ **I had no more than five weeks of school left, then I planned to just…wing it. take away after old Homer, get into an impossibly well-paying job without any job requirements, go to work 9to5, and spend the rest of the day by TV or Booze.**_

 _ **On the day it happened, I was returning home, as usual on my bike, grumbling "lousy Prince, snitching on me…" on the way.**_

 _ **To be sure, the things I fantasized to do to the condescending fatso were graphically morbid, even for me.**_

 _ **I finally got to the Evergreen Terrace, riding to 742, my family home, as I'm sure you know by now, Bob, after all these times you've tried to kill me.**_

 _ **Todd Flanders said "hi-dilly-ho, neighbor-eeno!" as he was starting to wave, taking away after dear Ned. In true Homer fashion I grumbled "shut up Flanders!" before jumping off my bike, which hit the wall but somehow wasn't damaged afterwards.**_

 _ **I hopped on to the door, opened it, and called cheerfully "**_ **Hel-lo DONUTS!** _ **" at the box homer had left, probably planning to eat later.**_

 _ **Shrugging at the box, I picked one of the donuts and walked to the living room munching on it, to see Lisa stare at me accusingly.**_

 _ **I shrugged, thinking 'what have I done now?', and said "Hey Lis', what's with the frowny face?"**_

 _ **She said in her annoying accusing tone (that she'd perfected over the years) and asked "did you do it?"**_

 _ **Huh? I didn't know what she meant, and years of dealing with Seymour skinner had left me immune to that type, and many other types, of interrogation. I said nothing, and walked upstairs to my room. Mom grumbled as I walked past her.**_

 _ **Oh well, probably some prank of Maggie's gone wrong, and she's framed me. The girl**_ **did** _ **have my style in pranking after all.**_

 _ **Which was why I didn't really think of the clusterfuck I was about to get into.**_

 _ **Until 9pm sharp (when we normally go to the kitchen, stuff our faces with mom's cookings, and watch TV until about 11, before we go to sleep). I walked down to the den, only to see chief Wiggum and another cop waiting for me.**_

" _ **Bartholomew Jojo Simpson, you are under arrest for an account of theft, three vandalism of public property, and four car collisions." Said the chief quickly, not caring about how he worded the charges, "you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you when we haul your ass in jail!"**_

 _ **He was keen to put me in jail for some reason. He cuffed me and took me to his old police car, and rode away.**_

 _ **In front of my Mom, Homer, and my two sisters, who said nothing, just glaring at me accusingly.**_

 _ **You know, there used to be this thing we called 'innocent until proven guilty'.**_

Bart's Memory is over

* * *

"and I've been in this cell ever since" he said, "no trials, no hearings, nothing. I've been here for two years, and I'm getting released the next week. The police are tired of me sitting in my room when the riots happen."

Bob said "say, have you ever read the Count of Mount Cristo?" "Nah, not too much into books you see," "read it. or the first part anyway, I think you have Dantes' problem."

Bart rolled his eyes, "and in words a non-literate prankster could understand…" "you've been framed by someone."

Bart gasped, "no way, man! Who would _do_ that?" he asked, before remembering Lisa, Jessica, Homer, Krusty, and Sideshow bob himself. "actually, scratch that..."

"no really, I've done the whole framing thing. This is amateur level. Someone uses the Simpsons car, probably Homer's, steals from Burns' Manor, and in the way he gets carried away with the escape car chase scene. Someone really clumsy or dramatic then. And then he needs a scapegoat. So who better than the boy _everyone_ knows to be a prankster and a menace? This is a small town, they could merely forgo the trial part and just sentence you."

Bart growled, "Ay Caramba! You're right! someone _did_ frame me! But who?"

Bob looked at the clock, "well, that seems to be a question you have to answer by yourself. My time here seems to be up, and I have to leave before one of the policemen wakes up!"

And Bart sat on his chair, and began thinking.

Who could _possibly_ frame him?

* * *

A week later, as he was saying his last goodbyes to the few prisoners he cared about, he still was ignorant of the identity of the true culprit. All he knew was he was _not_ going to let injustice like this continue. He couldn't do it with all USA, but he could fix Springfield at the least!

Homer had once told him he wasn't going to watch an old cartoon (that was his favorite back then, even if wouldn't touch the overly violent show with a 10-foot pole now), until he could become the supreme judge.

He was going to the law school. He would graduate, and he would do it right after his release!

He could already see his business card: 'Bart J. Simpson, Attorney at Law'

As he left, Bob, now not that hostile to him, said "Simpson, I have a favor to ask" He smiled, "anything, Bob. Just name it" "If, by chance, you actually do become an attorney in Law, tell me so I can hire you"

He raised an eyebrow, "Who would _you_ be filing against?" "that infernal Clown! I'll ruin him, for life!"

The clown had spent a day in jail, back when Bart was ten. Bob had framed him, and even though he was innocent in that case, the clown was _not_ an innocent man by any standards. Of course back then the idiot that was Bart Simpson had studies law just so he could rescue him (even if he actually did it with pointing out the man couldn't read). But _now_ , Krusty had lost his position as Bart's Idol. He'd seen nothing but pain from the clown, and now he could help someone put him behind bars.

Perfect.

"alright Simpson!" said the fat perverted chief, "you're getting outta here!"

He smiled at the fat bastard (who he was going to enjoy ruining when he could), and said "alright, chief. Will you drop me off home?"

He sneered, "who 'm I, your Da? Nah buddy! You're getting off in the nearest bus stop. I'll call homer for you, but you'll owe me!"

Three hours later, he was sitting by the bus stop. Wiggum had called Homer, but the man hadn't arrived yet.

If the 18 years of living with the man had taught him one day, it would be that he was going to wait a _long_ time until homer would arrive.

He didn't have it in him to be disappointed, or sad, when Homer's car stopped by the bus stop five hours later, the man (who'd grown back some of his hair) saying in a sheepish tone, "sorry, Son!"

 _DON'T CALL ME SON!_

* * *

"Mom! It's chief wiggum! He says dad's got to pick Bart up at the out-of-town bus stop!" said Lisa, the book-smart Simpson, to her Mother, Marge, who was watching TV.

The woman jumped at the news, "Really? He's getting released today? HOMER!" she yelled up at the man in her room who was, as usual, watching TV and eating five bags of snacks at once.

"HOMER!" she called again, to hear a muffled indignant 'WHAT?' back. "get up! You've gotta pick your _son_ up!" 'fiiiiine!'

Lisa looked at her, "you _do_ realize he's not gonna do it, right?" Marge narrowed her eyes, "he's going to, or there's no place for him here anymore. Now Remember, Lisa. We have to make amends with him. Help him reconcile with us so he won't _actually_ do a crime later"

That, as with any mention of Bart's sentence (or well, lack thereof), or Maggie's pranks, expressions, and attitude, made Lisa wallow in guilt.

Even if he _had_ actually done it, he was her only brother, and that still hadn't stopped him from _not_ standing up for the said brother when he needed support most.

She still remembered the day they took Bart away…

* * *

Lisa's Memory

 _ **She'd already done her homework (and extra-credit works) when Dad had called. Bart was, as usual, in detention and wouldn't show up until later.**_

 _ **She had two hours of peace and quiet.**_

 _ **Which was when Dad called. "Simpson residence, Lisa speaking!" she said automatically, "Lis'? we've got a problem."**_

' _ **You ran out of beer again?' she thought, but said "What sort of problem?" "someone thrashed the car. Someone who could get into the garage without a key."**_

 _ **He considered asking about how he hadn't noticed his car's state until now, but it would be hopeless. "who did it?" she asked, already fearing the answer, "my guess? The boy!"**_

 _ **She sighed, "dad, when are you going to finally stop calling Bart 'The Boy'?" she complained, "he's almost an adult now. How would you feel if Grampa still called you 'the boy'?"**_

 _ **Dad didn't answer for a long time. like he was reviewing something in his head, and said "dang. I've gotta hang up! Mr. Smithers is coming this way"**_

 _ **She shook her head in affectionate frustration, and sat on the sofa, watching the hundredth rerun of McBain: the complete edition.**_

 _ **When Bart came it, comically saying '**_ **Hel-lo** _ **donuts!', she clenched her teeth. Dad was right, he hadn't changed at all. He was still the rebellious pranking underachiever who was hell-bent on ruining life for her, her family, and everyone else.**_

 _ **Bart hadn't changed at all. He was still the brat who'd stole the tell-tale head, sold his soul for five bucks, and had made Mr. Skinner and Ms. Krabapple rue the day they became teachers.**_

 _ **Bart Simpson hadn't grown up. He hadn't grown up at all.**_

 _ **She couldn't stand looking at the immature brat, who shrugged at her and walked up to his room.**_

 _ **Which led to Lisa seething where he sat, until Dad returned home, looking a bit pale and nervous.**_

 _ **Behind him was Ralph's dad, in his uniform. The man who'd been the police chief ever since Lisa remembered. An abusive father, a comically corrupt officer, and one of the two men who ate (and drank) more than Homer.**_

 _ **He said seriously, "Marge, Lisa, I have bad news for you" he said, "Bart's done a real crime"**_

 _ **He explained, "he used Homer's car to go to the Burns' manor, broke in, stole a bag he thought was full of money, and escaped. During his escape he crashed into four cars and hit the tree over there" he pointed at the tree nearby, one that seemed to be a favorite for car crashing in the entire neighborhood.**_

 _ **Surprisingly Homer didn't say anything, no sign of him wanting to throttle the boy or yell any sort of profanity at him, Maggie wasn't home (The Mayor had decided to donate something to the school and they had gone to Kamp Krusty that day), and Marge was too sad to think actually say anything.**_

 _ **Buddha knew she looked almost the same as when Bart had been caught shoplifting years ago. Obviously, that was the first and last time he'd got caught doing that.**_

 _ **Not only hadn't Bart grown up, he'd gotten worse! Thievery, even if unsuccessful, was still a crime.**_

 _ **One Bart would get punished for.**_

 _ **Thirty minutes later, as wiggum took Bart away, she did all she could not to look at his face.**_

 _ **This would teach him not to break any more laws. It was for the best.**_

Lisa's Memory ends

* * *

Or so she thought. For two years, Bart stayed in prison, they never heard of a trial, a hearing, or even an official Verdict, even the over-opportunist that was Lionel Hutz didn't try to make them hire him as Bart's lawyer.

To be honest, Lisa always _did_ think that the whole thing with Bart was a bit dodgy, but what she _didn't_ realize was the fact that Bart was not guilty of that crime.

Which began changing when Milhouse, Bart's supposed best friend, slipped up and spilled some of the truth. Or his version of it.

* * *

Lisa's Memory

" _ **God, I miss Bart some days" said Lisa. After so many months, she could actually talk about her Brother again, without getting a sort of sad twisting in her guts.**_

 _ **They were actually checking Milhouse's old comics (some of which were actually Bart's, based on the labels of 'Property of Bart Simpson' he'd put on them. Those Milhouse had borrowed from him over the years, never giving them back), something he and Bart used to do back in the day, sitting and fawning over old 'Radioactive man' comics all day long.**_

" _ **yeah, reading these books doesn't have the same feeling without Bart commenting about a villain or something." He chuckled, "god knows a lot of things haven't had the same feeling since they hauled him"**_

 _ **She looked at him suspiciously, 'Hauled him'?**_

" _ **yes. Strange thing that," she said, priding on her acting skills, "they never tried him, just a verdict"**_

 _ **Milhouse laughed nervously,**_ **Bingo!** _ **and said "yeah. He didn't have a trial. Not at all"**_

 _ **Oh, there it was. There was something he knew that she didn't.**_

" _ **is there anything you're not telling me, Milhouse?"**_

 _ **He didn't say anything. Or he tried not to.**_

 _ **She wasn't fond of using one of the Eight-Year-Lisa techniques on an adult, not when she was nineteen, but after two hours of interrogation not working, she had to resort to that. "tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me!"**_

 _ **Finally, he gave in, "alright. there**_ **was** _ **a trial. You just weren't asked to come." She narrowed her eyes, and said "and you were? Why didn't you tell me anything? Huh? Huh? Huh?" about three minutes of 'huh?'-ing later, he said "I didn't show up either, okay? I was told not to go!"**_

"' _ **told not to go'?" she said incredulously, "why would you not go? What**_ **change** _ **would it have made?"**_

 _ **Which was where Milhouse stopped talking, and after that, they never talked of a trial anymore.**_

Lisa's Memory Ends

* * *

But that one time was enough. The seeds of doubt had already been planted, and it just needed a little push for her to realize his brother was not guilty of any of the said charges.

And that little push was homer's professing, saying he'd ruined his car, not Bart.

At that point, Maggie had pointed out "yeah, _Homer_ , we already knew Bart couldn't be guilty of ruining your car!" Marge and Lisa exclaimed "we did?"

She rolled her eyes, "yeah, duh! Bart was with Prince that night, they were working on Bart's grades and he hadn't even come home!"

 _Crap_ , was her expression at that. With that, Maggie huffed and left the room (the thirteen-year-old girl was even worse than Bart at that age. At least Bart had the decency of not doing something like that. Most of the time.), Homer left Upstairs, taking advantage of the debacle and getting scot free. Mom was the worse.

She had gone to the exact state she had when Bart had swallowed the razor piece from Krusty's cereals (looking back now, they had a _lot_ of stories back when Bart was ten), and she hadn't believed him to be ill.

And Lisa, she had begun wallowing in the guilt again.

* * *

And now, before she had time to pull herself together, Homer finally arrived with Bart.

"Marge, Lisa! We're Home!" called Homer as he opened the door.

When he opened the door, a young man with long blond hair, a permanent scowl and clenched jaw followed him inside. The man, a little taller than Homer himself, was nothing like the Bart he remembered. He was fit, he had an intelligent glint in his eyes, and he wasn't smirking or fidgeting or doing any other Bart-ish thing.

He had an impressive poker face on, and was careful not to look at marge or Lisa, only looking at her younger sister, Maggie.

"hello, Simpsons!" he said. "good to be back"

And with that four words, she already knew they had a _long_ way to go before Bart saw them as family again.

 _She_ had a long way before he could call her sister again.

* * *

"hey son, uh…how was jail?" asked homer, right before thinking _D'oh!_ , Bart looked at him with a mild glare, but said nothing.

"I'm…I'm sorry I was late- "Bart scoffed, but he tried to ignore it, "chief Wiggum called me just an hour ago" Bart interrupted, "I was here when he called you, Simpson" he said hollowly, "just …stop, alright?"

He said under his breath, "not like it's the _first_ time you're late picking me up at something."

He didn't _want_ homer to hear it, but the man did anyway, and that once again reminded him he was an idiot.

He didn't say anything for a while, but then he quietly admitted "I'm sorry I didn't show up at your trial, son"

That was a _wrong_ thing to say, Bart coldly said "but you're not sorry about not visiting me even _once_ , are you?" he continued, "not sorry for leaving me in prison and forgetting you had a son until it was once again your _job_ to take care of me" he chuckled bitterly, "stop pretending you care, homer. It got old eight years ago."

Of course Bart wasn't that sad or angry about it, he'd gotten used to it when Homer left him waiting in the rain for his Dad to pick him up eight years ago, when Homer had gotten busy listening to Lisa recite a poem for her literature test.

But homer didn't need to know that.

He wanted to see if he was capable of actually feeling guilty.

But the result was not what he'd intended. Homer looked at him, almost liking like he wanted to throttle him, but then started crying.

Homer J. Simpson, the man he used to call father, the only Simpson who he knew could remain joyful at any occasion, was crying.

Bart had seen his father in many moods: angry, cheerful, depressed, nervous, furious, even dead tired, he'd seen him laugh and yell and shout and stutter, but in all these years, not once had he seen him crying.

And he couldn't help. He was never good at counseling others. Just cheering up (or at least he used to be able to), or infuriate. He could do none of them to cheer his dad up.

He could do nothing but watch.

Homer sobbed, "I'm sorry Bart. Please…please…if you don't forgive me, just…don't hate _them_! They didn't even know you had a trial"

And neither did he, actually. At least not until after it was all done.

Because it was never supposed to end that way. In truth, not only _Bart_ but also _Homer_ didn't know the depth of the crime Bart had gotten framed for.

* * *

Homer's Memory

" _ **Hey, Homer!" said chief wiggum, the fat policeman, as he was drinking a mug of beer in Moe's. "How are you? How's family?"**_

 _ **Homer looked at him non-responsively, wiggum wasn't a stranger, but he hadn't been particularly friendly before. He was more of a social ninja, creeping in the background, until there was money and/or free food involved. Then he would be the dutiful cop first in the scene of crime.**_

" _ **hey chief- "before he could say anything, Chief wiggum said "say, can you let me borrow your car? I'll return it tomorrow!"**_

 _ **Considering the fact half of the evergreen terrace had heard the man, he couldn't not return it, and besides, Homer wasn't that stingy. He shrugged, "alright. just return it tomorrow"**_

 _ **But the next day, Wiggum called him at one o'clock. "oh, hey Simpson. I've got bad news for you"**_

 _ **Homer replied worriedly, "What's happened, is it Abe? Or- ""it's your**_ **car** _ **dumbass! "the chief cop snapped, "your car's been trashed! I had a little accident"**_

 _ **Homer said "what? But what do I do now?" "blame it on someone**_ **else!** _ **"**_

 _ **Homer narrowed his eyes, "blame it on someone else? You mean to ask me to**_ **lie** _ **to my family that an innocent man had an accident while driving my car?" "oh I'm not asking you Simpson, I'm**_ **telling** _ **you! I**_ **will** _ **pay for your car," he said, homer thinking (more like you're make us taxpayers to pay for your mistakes) and the chief continued, "but I'm not gonna lose my badge for this. Just blame it on your boy! Everyone'll fall for it!"**_

 _ **Unfortunately, he**_ **was** _ **right. he couldn't say he'd lent his car to the worst cop (and driver) in town, and let him ruin it. that would make him lose face in front of his own family again. and that wouldn't do.**_

 _ **What was ironic was the fact his boy, even at**_ **ten** _ **was a better driver that half the population of Springfield.**_

 _ **After two hours of struggle, the weak-willed homer called how, and lied to his own**_ **daughter** _ **about the car.**_

 _ **But even**_ **he** _ **couldn't've guessed Chief would**_ **arrest** _ **an innocent boy for a crime he himself had committed.**_

 _ **And**_ **burglary** _ **? That wasn't Bart's MO. His son might've been a prankster and occasionally a troublemaker, but he was no thief!**_

Homer's Memory ends

* * *

Bart listened to homer sob and cry for a long time. until he couldn't take it anymore. He snapped "stop the car, Simpson" in a tone he knew his father had become conditionally to ten years ago.

Homer broke his sob, "yes sir!", Bart continued in the same tone, careful of the nuances so they would be like Mr. Burns', "stop the car at your Favorite Pub. You clearly need a bottle or two before you calm down"

Fortunately, homer had always been quite predictable, he stopped listening after the promise of beer at Moe's, and drove there.

The Simpson family could wait for another hour

If there was one thing Homer was good at, it was holding his beer, Lord knows they would've all died if he wasn't the _best_ at getting drunk by choice and choice alone.

Five bottles of Duff beer later, he was still quite sober, of course Bart hadn't drunk (someone needed to be able to drive), but all that beer had cheered him up a bit.

When he was calmed to a degree, Bart said "now listen up, Simpson. When we return home, you're going to be as cheerful as ever. No shows of sadness, no shows of crying. You will be _Homer Simpson,_ the homer Simpson we all know and love!"

His father said sullenly," alright son"

He sighed, " _no_! that's exactly what I said you shouldn't do!" he grabbed the man's head, making him look into his eyes. Fortunately, he was a regular, and Moe wouldn't interrupt. "you're not a horrible father, you're not an awful man! Stop _acting_ you are!"

The older man said "But you just said- ""I'm your _son,_ goddammit! It's part of the job description to say things like that! If I ever say that, know that no matter what I say, I _don't mean it!_ " "but that don't mean it isn't true! My only example of raisin' a son was Abe, and I've been as horrible to you as he was to me! And I was improvising with Lisa" he sighed, saying dejectedly, "I've been the worst father a kid could have!"

Bart closed his eyes and counted to ten. This wasn't good. After all these years, Homer was finally cracking, and who _knew_ what happened if he had a nervous breakdown right here.

"no, Dammit! Listen to me!" he said, "you _may_ have been a less-than-spectacular father to me and Lisa, but you still have a teenage daughter to raise! You _can_ be a better to father, can't you?"

Homer's eyes shone at the mention of Maggie.

To be honest, Maggie _had_ always been homer's favorite, the one he let get away with anything. He _was_ still working at the plant for her after all.

Bart smiled inwardly. This wasn't a good technique. Not something a psychiatrist or a psychologist would use, but he didn't have time. he had to just put duct tape on the crack, until a professional could check it. and not the horrible quote-psychiatrist-unquote that lived in Springfield.

Homer was regaining some of his self-confidence, "now. We can't let mom and the kids to see you crying, can we?"

That did it.

Even Bart had to agree, despite all his faults, Homer Simpson was the true family guy. He loved his family and did anything he could to keep them happy. He was, even if they didn't realize it, the pillar to their little family.

Heaven knows how bad they'd broke down that one night he was too angry to return home with them and had to go on an inter-state trip until he cooled down.

He sighed deeply, chugged down the last bottle, paid for the drinks, and got into the car.

This time, Bart was driving.

Before they could reach home, homer asked soberly, "hey son, can you find it in yourself to ever forgive me?"

Bart closed his eyes, "I'll try, dad. I'll try"

Homer shrugged inwardly. That was the best he was going to get.

Bart parked the car and they got out. Homer, now completely sober, took the lead, "marge, Lisa! We're home!"

He had a family to see again.

* * *

"Hello Simpsons" said Bart coldly. God, he didn't know how to feel about the Simpsons now.

The Simpson residence was still the same. The same sofa, couch, flooring, table. Hell, even the TV was the same thing homer had bought five years ago.

The only changes were in Lisa and Maggie.

Maggie now looked exactly like thirteen-year-old Bart (if he were a girl). All she wore was a T-shirt and a pair of shorts, Apart from the mischievous, longing glint in her eyes.

Ah, 'sweet, innocent' Maggie, always looking too cute to be a menace. Of course Bart knew better, she _had_ almost killed Mr. Burns before, and no one but Bart knew she wasn't as innocent as the now-closed case report claimed.

And then there was Lisa, now almost as tall as Bart. She'd lost the dress for a casual jeans and t-shirt, straightened her long, blonde hair. Still had those eyes that shone with intelligence and the almost involuntary look of 'you're too much of a boy for me to take seriously' on her face.

And finally there was mom. Marge Simpson, who still looked like she did ten years ago. her dear naïve spoilsport overprotective mother who'd so easily condemned him for so many things all his life.

He continued "good to be back"

Even with his tone and glare, he still couldn't stop mom from running at him, hugging and kissing him on the cheeks, exclaiming how she missed her 'special little guy'.

* * *

Lisa was ashamed of saying this, but prison had taught Bart something mum and dad never could. Manners.

He calmly sat on his chair, eating the homemade pork chops, so calm and slow, clearly enjoying every last bite. If this was how they acted at the prison, it was no wonder all the criminals were such gentlemen. If a bit murderous. (1)

Probably part of this calm eating was due to the awkward silence that had fell in the kitchen.

Mum and Maggie stole sneaky looks at him, clearly wanting to talk, but not knowing how to start the conversation. The fact Bart had been looking at his plate the entire time didn't help.

The last time Bart had been like this, it was the first few weeks after everyone (except her) had sided with Jessica Lovejoy at the whole church-felony fiasco.

He hadn't looked at them, played any kinds of pranks at them, or even snapped and bit at them. His grades had improved, and his under-achiever persona had vanished into thin air.

At the time, Lisa had been happy for him. thinking he was _finally_ changing for the better, but after years (actually, right after she opened her first psychology book) she'd understood what it meant. To leave the public persona meant not to care about what society thought about him. and it was the first degree of snapping. If he had continued to be that way, he would eventually not care about the laws, norms, and taboos either. (2)

It might've been a bit hypocritical of her, but not caring what society thought of him was unhealthy for Bart.

Last time, it'd been over in three months. Who knew how long it would take _this time?_

Finally, Lisa couldn't take it anymore, "Bart…" she said, "we're sorry about not being there for you when you needed us"

He 'hmm'-ed dismissively, not even looking at her, she tried again, "we're sorry we didn't believe it you"

Still nothing

"sorry we've disappointed you"

At this point, Lisa's frustration grew stronger, hesitating no longer she said "please, say something!"

He turned his head towards her, eyes narrowed and expression as venomous as the one he had on Milhouse's horrible thirteenth birthday (he wouldn't even say her name for two years, calling it 'the L-word', though what she'd said _was_ horrible, if true), but he still stayed silent for a few more minutes.

"you're not sorry about that" he said finally, "not really" he chuckled bitterly. "you're just feeling uncomfortable at me not being the same person I used to be"

"no, Bart…I- "she tried, but he interrupted, still talking monotonously, "you're not sorry about not believing me, you've just some self-guilt over the fact you've gone too far" he chuckled, "not that I blame you. I'm just the boy who cried wolf after all"

(3) Mom said "now Bart, don't be too hard on your-" NO _MOM! Just stop before he-_

Bart rose thunderously, "you're not really sorry. None of you are! I _did_ notice none of you paying me a visit even _once_ in three years. Not worrying about sending me to the place where there were three _Murderously psychopathic_ criminals who had a bone to pick with me! You're not sorry about anything, Simpsons. You're just feeling some misplaced guilt!"

He turned around, "at least stop thinking I'm some idiot who can't tell when people lie _in my face!_

and said with a sickly sweet tone, "may I be excused?"

and without waiting for a response from the shell-shocked Simpsons, he left, walking towards his room.

At which point Maggie said "crap"

Marge automatically said "language, Maggie!" but Lisa understood.

He wasn't going to be happy when he saw his room. She rose quickly, running after his brother.

But she was too late.

Bart was looking at the room that used to be his. (4)

* * *

It was empty. His old room, full of mementoes and things he'd held dear. His old sanctuary, the place that once was _his_ place of thinking, planning, escaping, and resting. It had been reduced to a plain guestroom. A plain bed in the middle, a PC and printer on a desk and their old TV in front of the bed.

There was no sign of his clue-board. The one he'd scavenged from the Police HQ once, when Bob had hidden in the city and the police were too incompetent to catch him. (like almost always, _he_ was the one to catch him in the end)

No sign of his desk, full of _his_ junk, those that had made the room **his**. No sign of the rock band posters, or his own paintings, those he'd drawn himself.

No sign of his painting vessel either.

This wasn't _his_ room anymore, and by the state of the dust on everything, it hadn't been used by others either…not for at least three years.

They really _had_ abandoned him.

He couldn't do anything. his feet couldn't move, his head couldn't turn, and he couldn't do anything but look hatefully at the room that was, not, nothing more than another sign that HE DIDN'T BELONG

* * *

The similarities were uncanny. Bart looked like a fitter blond version of Homer when his in the white anger. He was shaking furiously; his fists were clenched so strong his finger-heads were pale. His breathing was ragged and shallow.

And she'd seen homer when he got to that stage. Bart wouldn't hit her, he had that bit of self-control, but that was it.

Without making a sound, she slowly walked towards him. this had to be done right, or they'd lose him forever.

She crept towards him, and raised a hand to put on his shoulder, when he said in a barely-controlled tone, "I've been on my guard for Bob ever since I was Ten, Lisa. You can't sneak up on me"

She said weakly," it wasn't my intention, Bart- ""then leave. I want to be alone.

In nine out of ten cases, that means you should _not_ leave, just sit somewhere in the near vicinity of the patient, and just _be_ there for them, if they need a shoulder to cry on or a silent listener they can talk to.

So, as her psychology book had said, she sat nearby, looking at his brother and praying to all entities she could name that this wasn't one of the rare ones that weren't so.

After thirty minutes of silence, he said in a quiet tone, "hey, Lis'" beaming at the returning of the old nickname, she raised her head.

He continued, "do you still plan on going to Yale?" "yes, why?" "I'm coming with you" "how come?

"I'm gonna become an attorney in Law"

* * *

"you want to be a what?" asked Lisa, looking a bit shocked at the declaration.

"I want to study law, in a good university. You're already planning to go to Yale. I'll come with you."

It took all Lisa's self-control not to snap at him, as soon as he said that, she knew he would ruin university for her. An immature prankster TPing the hell out of the classrooms, instead of studying like he was supposed to.

And she was sure he would be just that, but then she saw the glint of grim determination in his eyes. He was serious about this.

He actually wanted to become a lawyer.

But…why?

"but why?" she asked, he smirked "I'm not going to let what happened to me happen to anyone else. Springfield is almost rotten to the core, and I'm gonna fix it."

"but _how?_ Bart, our city's a small community, almost everyone knows each other. How are you going to change it?"

He said acidly, "where's the girl who wanted to stop the parade because she'd found out Jeremiah Springfield was a fraud?" he narrowed his eyes, "please don't tell me you've gone native too"

At which point Lisa dropped her head. That was exactly what'd happened. "don't you remember our talk about smarts?" "of course I do, that was one of our few heart-to-heart talks ever since I discovered rock bands." And then he nodded, "anyway, _yes_. This city needs to be fixed. Even at ten we knew Quimby's motto was 'extreme corruption', Wiggum accepted bribes and skinner embezzled the school funds. Our future, our _children_ 's future, needs to be better than that."

She shrugged, "but what can _you_ do?" he smirked, "I can become the attorney! We already know Hutz is a stupid man who can't tell left from right, and Burnham sells his business to the highest bidder." He huffed, "and after what happened to me, I'm _not_ gonna let anyone else do my job." With that comment, he said "I might need to buy me a new house too. God knows I'm not welcome here anymore"

And walked to the bathroom, hoping there was an unused toothbrush for him to use.

* * *

The next day, Maggie, who'd heard Bart's declaration the night before, came to Bart's room eight in the morning, planning to wake him up the same way they used to back when they were younger.

Before she could, however, Bart said from under his bed wrap, "don't even try it, Maggie", he yawned, "just a minute. I'll be up"

Three minutes and a half later (she took these stuff literally) a casually dressed Bart Simpson said to her sister," what is it, then?"

She said "how're you going to go to Yale? You wouldn't be a scholarship student, you know!" she rolled her eyes, "you've don't get that kind of marks" he nodded, "I'm pretty sure I have college fund somewhere, if that's not enough, I can always nag at homer"

Maggie said "oh please, Dad doesn't have that kind of money"

He laughed, "I find your lack of deduction skills amusing, sis. Let me tell you what _I_ think"

He raised a finger, "Drinks: Homer's been drinking quality beer every night ever since he was in highschool. He always hangs out at Moe's tavern, the owner of which is famous for his overpriced drinks.

If they gave us bills to the amount we drunk, Homer's wouldn't be calculable by man"

Then, he raised another finger, "homer's adventures: unless it's for a worthy cause, homer always has money to do anything. Buy a pool, buy a caravan, annual trips to highly overpriced amusement parks! Now I know that by itself isn't much, but something like that wouldn't be possible to have by a low-paying job."

"ooh, and most important of them all. Ever since Lisa learned reading, we've tried to sue a _lot_ of people. Krusty, Skinner, Mr. Burns, even Mr. Meyers. Our lawyer was an idiot named Lionel Hutz, who demanded outrageous prices as payment upfront, and then lost the suit anyway. If he had money for it _then_ , we have money for it now that Dad's got Smithers' job.

Then, he said "so you see, dad earns more money than you could think of, and I really suspect he still gets royalties from his old Barbershop quarter too. He _can_ pay for it, and I'm going to make him."

He shrugged, "my name _was_ an anagram for Brat, why shouldn't I be one?"

Then he began walking to the front door, Maggie asked "where're you going?"

"to the high school. It's high time I finally graduated high school." He smirked, "let's see who's really smarter, Me, or Lisa"

* * *

Seymour skinner was slacking off in his office, relaxing in the middle of the school day. Even though being the principal of a high school was hard, he couldn't help feel it'd lost a log of its hardships ever since that no good Simpson menace had dropped out.

No more pranks, no more school property damaged, no people hurt in one of his stupid schemes. No revolts, disruptions or anything of the sort.

The school was peaceful without Bart Simpson.

Which, of course, was exactly when he decided to show up

An alarm went off, and from the school's intercom device said old willie, "principal skinner, a boy wan's ta see ye!"

He called "Who is it, willie?" "says he's Bartholomew Simpson, sir"

He sighed. There went his peace and quiet. "send him up, willie. Send him up"

Fifteen seconds later, a tall young man with long hair and athletic body walked unto his room, "principal skinner"

"Simpson," he sighed, "what do you want here?"

He smirked that annoying smirk of his and said "I want to take the senior year final exams sir," "absolutely not!" said the old 'nam veteran

Simpson said "but sir, I just want to- "" _no!_ you didn't show up for the finals, you didn't show up for the summer exams! You're not gonna graduate!"

He narrowed his eyes, "are you telling me I have to take senior year again?" he smirked, before pacing his slingshot up, and looking at it nonchalantly.

It was just amazing what an innocent child's weapon could do to the war-hardened principal.

The Indians might've threw hatchets to declare war, but his unsheathing of the thrice-damned weapon (that had made him ban anything that could be used as a weapon by Bart) was even worse! It was blackmail, persuasion and threatening all at once.

"well, then I might begin 'studying' again…" he said, still inspecting his old pranking partner.

He wasn't going to use it, of course. There were _way_ better ways to ruin life for a school principal.

Skinner might've been a war veteran and a POW-camp returnee, but he sure as hell wasn't _that_ unreasonable.

"alright. you can take them. All of them. And if you pass, you can just get the hell outta here! Just tell me the courses you took"

And if he wasn't going to pass, Seymour would make sure he did, all by himself.

* * *

Five hours and forty-five minutes later, Bart Simpson returned with the stack of paper, and dropped it on the man's desk. "here's the lot of them, sir! Can I have them graded today?"

He knew schools didn't work that way. There was actually a long process involved. But If there was one thing he'd learned in this shit-hole of a school, it was that everything could be done with the enough amount of persuasion. In this instance, it was the option of having Bart in the school against letting him graduate, like he should've. Like the last time, the principal did the right thing.

An hour later, he received his last report card. Six As, three Bs, and a C.

Better than all his other results, still not as good as Lisa's, but he _had_ taken the exams without any pre-studying. What did he know, he could solve differential calculus and stoichiometric chemistry problems by general knowledge!

A few minutes later, after receiving his certification as a high school graduate, he walked away out, whistling the theme of 'in-a-gadda-da-Vida' as he walked home.

And who would he see in the way, but his best friend?

Yes, Milhouse Van houten looked at him and said nervously, " _Bart?_ "

* * *

Huh. Milhouse hadn't changed much. He was still a tall scrawny geek with blue hair and geek glasses. Now majoring physics in SSU, which was ironically located in Shelbyville.

The lack of bullies had helped him, he didn't have that sense of dread and he didn't look like he was ready to get punched any minute.

Not that nelson deserved it, but Bart was ready to bet all he had that geeks and nerds all around Springfield were partying over the fact he couldn't torment them anymore

Actually, Nelson _did_ deserve it. he was a mouse-brained idiot with overgrown muscles that hadn't stopped enjoying the misery of others, even after hundreds of times he'd been publicly humiliated himself. The only thing he'd didn't deserve was to pass the senior year.

Van houten was a bit nervous to see him. most of the time, this look meant he'd done something terrible that would ruin their friendship, and he was nervous about Bart's reaction. Things not inviting him to his birthday party, or claiming his sister was the 'dearest Simpson in the party!'. As he'd doer in his thirteenth birthday party.

Bart rolled his eyes at the memory. How _petty_ and childish he'd been back then.

He chuckled "hello Milhouse! How _nice_ of you to finally pay your best friend a visit!"

Milhouse gulped, and shook his head, "no, Bart- I" he interrupted, "and how _nicer_ of you to show up in my 'trial', and explaining my innocence!" he shook his head, "truly, you're the most loyal friend a guy could ever have!"

"b-b-Bart, you've got it all wrong!" he said, "I wasn't allowed to come! Neither was martin, who could have explained you were at his house all night, The other side of town! Chief wiggum came to my house and said he'd arrest me for assisting a known criminal if I actually showed up in the trial!" Bart raised an eyebrow. Alright, so Milhouse wasn't guilty of disloyalty. He was just plain dumb.

"and you believed that?  
Milhouse said indignantly, "I'm not Lisa, alright! I don't study law just to show up on a small court for a single case! I thought he could do that!" so why didn't you tell anyone else?" "because by the time I found out he couldn't do it; I'd also realized I had no choice! I had no witnesses, he could easily claim plausible deniability, and get away with it! be honest, who do you think people believe? A high-school graduate or the city's police chief?"

"well, considering the things I've seen form wiggum- "Bart said, but then paused, "alright. I get it. the jury wouldn't believe you anyway. Not without a _very_ good lawyer on your side. And none of them take the side that doesn't have more money." He sighed. All the more reason for him to study law.

But first, it was time he reconciled with Milhouse. "say, how about we go to a pub? Catch up after these years. You know!" Milhouse looked a bit skeptical, "it's on me, dude!"

Doing that, he could also catch up with his mob buddies. He was pretty sure fat tony still remembered the boy who'd served him Manhattan eleven years ago.

God, did he have a _lot_ of adventures back then

* * *

The Gentlemen's club was still as dusty as ever, the newest Bartender was a man who Bart and Milhouse knew as 'Bart's Doppelganger' or Lester, who seemed to have the same looks, hobbies, accent and build as Bart. They'd met first when he and her sister (who was also called 'Lisa's Doppelganger' or Eliza) had saved Itchy and scratchy studios after some story with the original creator, reunited Krusty with his estranged wife and helped Apu out after he'd been arrested for public nudity.

Over the years, the two had become friends, seeing Lester was as good in the art of pranking as Bart was, but Bart couldn't help feel a hollow pain in his chest.

Was _this_ to be his fate had he graduated with everyone else?

Milhouse waved at Lester, "ooh, look! It's Lester! Let's go say hi!"

The two walked straight to the bar, where the young bartender was arguing with a stereotypically dressed Mobster from another gang.

"now lis'n up, pretty boy!" said the main in white coat, "I asked for information, I'ma get information!"

"sir, I've already told you, I don't know who you're looking for" "shaddap! Look at this photo 'n tell me if you've seen da guy!" the drunken lowlife told him, aiming a hand pistol at the bartender's head.

Bart whispered to Milhouse, "let's see if they remember me!" and took a few steps forwards, before yelling "yo!" the gangster turned, "mess with someone yer own size!" he said in a tone he'd know the man would understand.

The gangster didn't. he said confusedly, "who're you?", which apparently was the question of every other man or woman in the bar as well.

He said with a daring tone he'd perfected in high school, "oh, I'm just some guy who served them Manhattan once"

A mobster frowned "Manhattan boy?" another said "the one who got me rich in horse-gamblin'?"

Fat tony said "cover him, boys! he's one of ours!"

That was something they understood. Even though they'd all left him when he was in trial, they were still the same guys who wanted to kill Skinner because he'd 'mess with their boy'. They all rose, aiming several guns at the mobster. "get the hell outta here, buddy!"

The man got the memo and holstered his gun, before growling at Bart and leaving.

Tony said "Bart Simpson!" and drew his hand for a shake. Bart shook it, saying "Marion Anthony D'Amico! Long time no see!"

* * *

"hey, Bart! You never told me you were buddies with the local mob boss!" said Milhouse, two hours later, as they finally left the Gentleman's Club. He smirked, "that's a long story, Milhouse!"

He stretched and yawned, and said "remember that one time I went to trial for killing sinner?" a bypasser looked at them, and took a step back. "you know, the one that ended up with skinner showing in the trial himself" Milhouse nodded, "I'd met them a few months back, when they made me mix them some drinks" he sighed, "I basically became an honorary member. But I called it quits after the trial"

Milhouse said "That doesn't explain how he's friendly with you. Didn't you flip him off after the trial?"

Bart smiled nostalgically, "as it happens, you can't leave mob alive. And they decided not to kill me. Contacted me a few years ago, after I saved one of Tony's men." He winced, "And the last time I ever got rowdy with a group of thugs. _God_ that Chinese guy punched hard."

After they finally said their goodbyes, Bart returned home, to see Maggie and mom by the TV and Lisa in her room, pre-reading one of her politics textbooks.

He walked to his room, and looked at his clue board.

He had a new case now

' _who framed Bart Simpson?_ '

* * *

Dressed casually, Bart looked at his old clue board. The words 'Who framed Bart Simpson' written on its top.

Just like old times, back when bob used to escape prison every once in a while, he was walking around the room, thinking.

As an impressionable pre-teen, he always acted like a TV detective in these sort of things, and that had stayed with him over the years.

Making sure the door was locked and closed, he began thinking loudly, "what we know: on march 15 2015, Chief Clancy Wiggum arrived at the Simpson Residence, and arrested me for a charge of theft, three vandalism of public property, and four car collisions. On May 9 2015 I had a trial without any defending attorney. Without anyone on my side, and without the right to defend myself, I was found guilty of all charges, and sentenced to three years in Springfield state prison."

He pinned a photo of Chief wiggum and one of himself. Then he said "by dad's confession, they didn't get any letter to attend the trial." He continued "by report of Milhouse, Chief Wiggum banned _him_ to come to the trial. Martin didn't show up either, for some reason." he pinned a photo of Milhouse to the board, and drew a line from wiggum to Milhouse.

"hypothesis, martin and the Simpsons were banned by wiggum, or an accomplice." He shrugged, "probably just wiggum"

And connected martin and the Simpsons to Wiggum too.

Then, he thought again, "by wiggum's words, the car was thrashed in the escapade, and nothing of value was stolen from Mr. Burns. Hypothesis, the actual culprit was clumsy, and couldn't see well in the dark. Conclusion, it's not homer or anyone of _my_ family. Suspicion, it's wiggum"

Then, he snapped, " _no, no NO!_ this is all _wrong_!" he cursed, "this thing can't be solved now. There isn't much evidence and information. Conclusion, search for more clues!"

He sighed, before chuckling and hiding the clue board again.

Maybe next time.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the other side of town, well distanced from the evergreen terrace and its happy (-ish?) residents, a policeman was walking towards the town hall, where they gathered around for making decisions (which meant choosing from a set of pre-decided options, until marge Simpson didn't accept and gave another (admittedly better but impossible) option.)

A young redheaded woman sitting behind a desk smiled at him, "Chief wiggum, Mayor Quimby will see you now!"

He rolled his eyes and entered the room, Quimby was sitting on his chair behind his desk, the seal of 'Corruptus in Extremis' stood before him, the man had definitely taken corruption to an extreme.

Sadly, he was necessary for the city, and more importantly, if he went down, so would Clancy.

And nobody wanted that, least of all Clancy wiggum himself.

"so, why're ya here, Clance?" said the mayor in his friendly tone (or what _he_ thought was friendly), choking the response of 'don't call me Clancy' and said "we have a problem, sir"

"uh-uh, is snake out again?" said the mayor, playing with his phone as he said that.

Clancy clenched his jaw and said through his teeth, "no, sir. Snake is in his cell, as is Terwilliger, the scapegoat is out of prison" the fat politician said "so find him!"

Clancy closed his eyes, wishing he could _just_ get away from this. "we can't sir. He was released yesterday"

Quimby dropped his phone, " _WHAT_?" he snapped, "I thought he had a life sentence!"

"it was three years, sir. You were hoping someone would kill him in prison. What are your orders now?"

He sighed, "Clancy, my young friend, 'Killed in prison' is keyword for _you_ killing him in prison. Just get out of my sight. I'll contact you myself, when I have an idea"

As Clancy Wiggum left, he paid no attention to the secretary saying "have a nice day, sir!"

If he had, he would've noticed the shocked eyes, shudders of stress, and twitching fingers. He might've even noticed the Audio recording program that was open in her PC monitor.

All he could think of were the beers he was going to drink at Moe's.

* * *

Two months later, at the beginning of the college year, Lisa and Bart left for two separate colleges, one for Yale, Connecticut, and the other for a few miles off Springfield, in Shelbyville territory,

As it happened, you couldn't really apply for Yale with eight C- reports and expect to be accepted.

Bart's underachieving persona had finally thrown a real obstacle in his life, but no mater, it wasn't like a _Harvard_ or _Yale_ graduate were going to return to Springfield (he'd checked with martin, actually. He wasn't), Lisa, of course, was the exception. She didn't have the social ties or experience necessary to get into the central government.

"so, homer, this is the end" said Bart to his dad, the man smiled nostalgically, "oh, cheer up, son! The state university isn't that far from town, we might even visit you!" marge grumbled, and he said, without knowing why, "D'oh!"

Lisa said "dad, will you at least _try_ not to embarrass us in the public?" and Bart was really waiting for Maggie to make pacifier sounds, only to realize his thirteen-year-old sister was hugging him, and whispering "I'm gonna miss you!"

"relax, megs! It's just a few miles away, you could actually bike the way, it's just over the lemon tree!" he snickered, "besides, I'ma be back in a few years, it isn't that long!"

As marge and homer said their goodbyes to Lisa, the two siblings hugged each other one last time, and Lisa said "good luck" to Bart.

He smiled genuinely, and said "I don't think you're gonna need the luck I'd wish. So…have fun?"

He said, and left. One to the airport, and the other to his dad's car.

They both had destinies to start fulfilling.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **Hello, this might seem a bit...long as a chapter for this story.**

 **This piece (a long-arse story with three chapters) was the first Arc of the very first thing I ever wrote for The Simpsons. (it** _ **was**_ **supposed to have two more arcs, but I never found the energy to finish it. who knows? I might as well start writing a new chapter for this later)**

 **Well, ignore this story if you want (and aren't I an arse for writing this in the end of the chapter?), the next chapter will be uploaded in due time.**

 **Also, I Solemnly swear I won't write a Lisa!Bashing story on this site until there are at least twelve more non-Bashing stories. or at least, twelve more stories that don't bash Redeemable characters (Like Bart, Lisa, Marge, Maggie (!), Homer, and maybe Clancy Wiggum (who is also someone I usually bash, but is redeemable for a immoral character)**

 **Davoid signing off**


	14. Blood is thicker than Water

**Ling Bouvier, Age Six.**

The First day of School, when she'd be introduced to her 'peers', to the official educational system.

Ling Bouvier was not counting the days left before that. Well, she was, but not because she was _waiting_ for it to happen. If it was up to her, she'd rather postpone the day for another year or something.

It wasn't going to be glorious. It wasn't going to be anything special. It wasn't going to be useful either. Whatever the school was planning on teaching them, she'd learned them beforehand.

Her Cousins said different things about School.

Cousin Bart always scared her, describing in careful details what exactly was going to happen. What she'd better steer clear of ('if a boy with crooked teeth asks you 'you think you're better than me?', NEVER say yes', or 'never take the food from School Cafeteria. Bring stuff from home', or 'rules aren't laws, just guidelines')

Cousin Lisa scared her too, by how many times she said school was important, and that the teachers were authorities and not meant to be made fun of, or worse: bitten. Well, it wasn't her fault if her Tutor three years ago didn't know what Logarithms were! For god's sake, he was supposed to be a math teacher!

Well, Cousin Lisa also scared Maggie (who, sadly, wouldn't be going to the same school she did.), but Maggie tended not to care too much, and just pretend to shoot stuff with her hand (*pew pew!*), and everyone would leave her, saying stuff you normally tell a dog who's about to attack you so you can calm it. She never understood why.

Either way, when she got out of the bus, staring at the jail-like building that was in front of her, she knew what she had to do.

What she always did.

Perform her best, or suffer the consequences.

* * *

 **Ling Bouvier, Age Eight**

Ling opened the door to the small apartment. As per usual, mom and Aunt Patty were busy smoking the deathstick and watching some stupid guy on TV (McGuiver or something), and awkwardly walked to her room, hoping the two wouldn't notice her.

She walked on her toes, silently, and tried not to be a center of attention, you could say she _exceptionally_ tried her best not to spare a glance on the two women watching their TV as she walked past the coach to the hallway, now less than ten steps away from her room…

She could do this! she could enter the room without them asking the question-

she almost succeeded, until Patty said "aren't you forgetting something, dear?"

"no aunt Patty." She sighed, dropped her backpack on the ground, "school was as dandy as ever"

Mom let out a ring of smoke, and said "Ling, Hun. Are you alright? it seems your principal disagrees with you."

Aunt Patty continued "yeah. That's not what you principal said." They both shook their heads, "A- in Math, B in GYM? That's very bad, Ling." "yeah, Very bad indeed"

Still facing her room, Ling closed her eyes, and choked back a sigh.

It was her first ever bad grade in two years. Coincidentally, also the first _ever_ time she'd heard them talking about her performance in school.

But she knew they were right. a B was unacceptable. She had to practice more, and improve her grades to her normal A average.

She kept her eyes closed, and waited as Mom and Aunt Patty droned on, "you know a B is not becoming of you, Ling. Do you want to be a nobody like that uncle of yours?"

Ling, still not looking back, said "No Aunt Patty"

"Then you'd better do your best!" snapped Mom, and for a moment Ling almost lost control and let a sob out, but then said "May I be dismissed?"

"Sure, Hun. Remember, we want nothing but the best for you"

Nothing but the best indeed.

* * *

 **Ling Bouvier, Age twelve**

Ling Bouvier opened the door, chocked down a sob as she covered her mouth with both hands, and ran towards her room, slamming the door as she went.

"Huh. she must be a bit mad" Aunt Patty said, without even turning her head from the TV, Her Twin sister grunted in agreement, but didn't raise her head as she read the newspaper.

Five minutes later, Selma sighed, "Alright, _Fine_. I'll go talk to her"

Grumbling under her breath, she rose from the seat, grunting at the energy it took, and began walking towards Ling's room.

"Ling, Hun. Are you alright?" she asked, a muffled voice from inside the room said "yes, mother"

"Good to hear that, Then you won't forget your Violin practice for today, hmm? You have an audience to perform for, remember?" "yes, mother"

She shrugged, and returned to the hall. "says she's alright" she said to her Sister, and returned to her newspaper.

Inside, Ling silently shrieked, and threw her backpack to the opposite wall. Something squeaked from inside, and then she dropped to her bed, saying _Damnit_ under her breath. Hopefully nobody had heard that.

Ling was going to have a _lot_ of problem solving this when she'd take over…

* * *

 **Ling Bouvier, Age Sixteen**

Ling looked at the mirror in front of her. Her reflection looked unkempt and had a haunted glint in her eyes.

"you, Ling Bouvier, are a failure" she said to herself. "can't even appease your parents! What are you going to do?"

Her reflection rolled her eyes, at this, Ling grew even angrier. "Don't you roll your eyes at me! your grades are _all_ you have! What are you going to do if you can't get a good scholarship? Go become a drunko like Uncle Homer? A teacher like Hoover?"

The Reflection smirked, and popped a balloon gum.

"You are pathetic! You're worthless! What are you going to do with these grades? Become a deadbeat like cousin Bart?" then, she stopped. The reflection in the mirror opened her mouth and said something. no voice came out, of course, but Ling was a master in reading lips. _'s Long 's it angers her!_

She blinked, did the reflection try to _talk_ to her?

A voice from outside said "Ling, Hun. Are you alright?"

Then, she was in the mirror.

She couldn't control her body; all she could was watching as the events unfolded.

Her Mouth opened, and said "As long as it angers them, I don't care what happens to us!"

Her hand reached for the First Aids cabinet shelf near the mirror, and out came a razor.

She tried muffling her shrieks, but soon she realized it didn't hurt at all.

The fact it was something Patty and Mother didn't want was enough of a satisfaction for her to ignore the pain.

In fact, the pain was welcome, welcome all the time!

[linebreak]

She woke up in her bed, rubbing her eyes, and wondering how she'd got _here_.

Then, she noticed her arms hurt…

 _Who slashed my arms like that?_

* * *

 **Ling Bouvier, Age Eighteen**

"And, a round of Applause for our Valedictorian, Ling Bouvier!" the Principal said, and waved for her to get up for her speech.

Ling blushed, and then walked up to the stage, a voice in her head said _Sure would be a shame if you couldn't give your speech, hmm_?

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and walked on the stage, shook hands with the Principal, and took the Microphone, looking over her papers for another moment, before finally meeting the Audience Eye to Eye.

She knew what _exactly_ she was going to say.

"My fellow Graduates. Over the last four years here, we've learned a _lot_. A lot of things that are going to be quite _useful_ for our future!

We've learned a lot from our teachers, for example Gino Terwilliger learned how to solve Differential Calculus. Integrals and derivations, the whole thing. And guess what's he going to major on? Dramatic Arts. Gerald Samson, our best violin Solo, learned _Stoichiometric_ Chemistry, I'm sure It'll come in handy when he's playing in the Carnegie hall. My cousin, Margret Simpson, the Rock Genius of this school, learned how the apes are _not_ our ancestors, but actually very distant cousins, and learned how to write a DNA sequence."

She paused a few seconds, then shook her head, "this is all pointless. What we've _learned_ here, in fact the _Only_ thing **I've** learned these last four years, is that academic Prowess is useless unless you want to go to a college." She said, with a chuckle, as the Principal was giving her weird looks. She continued "we're high school graduates now. In a few minutes, you guys will be signing each other's yearbooks, we'll say our goodbyes. We may see each other in the future. Most likely we will, seeing as this Town has lost any chance of sending immigrants to other cities. We'll try our best to live an independent life, but we'll have to depend on each other for many things that we're going to do, so I'll keep it short. Every single person in this hall has, most likely, wasted at least two-third of their lives this four years. Wasted what could be used for learning useful things, making good friends, honing the skills we wanted, etcetera etcetera. Have fun living the rest of your lives, guys. The tutorial levels are finally over, now we have to live for real. Thank you, and goodbye"

She handed the microphone back to the principal, and walked down to her seat, where Selma and Patty were looking at her with suppressed angry glares.

 _Oh Boo-freaking-hoo. Not like I plan on living with the two of THEM any longer._

* * *

 **Ling Bouvier, Age twenty-two**

"I am sorry, Ling, but I'm afraid you've been diagnosed with several… inefficiencies. Each of them on their own could be possible to cope with in a normal life, but this particular mix is quite…problematic."

Ling looked at the page her Psychiatrist had handed over to her. _Severe Depression, Paranoia, Bipolar disorder, DD?_ Some of these she didn't even know about…

"are these…are these curable?" she asked, and her psychiatrist, also (coincidentally) her cousin, shook her head, "depends. Some of them are controllable with different drugs, and your level of Paranoia is not that high to actually need a cure. But some of these are _not_ curable in a short time. you'll need to go to therapy for DD, and most importantly the therapy, and its necessary actions, often done by you yourself, will require a large amount of your time per day." The Psychiatrist said "it's still up to you, but if you think you need therapy, you can't go on like this anymore"

Ling narrowed her eyes, s _he's lying. She can't not be lying. She has to! We're just fine. Ignore her and get to our life, we've got work to do_.

She dropped her head, "you'll tell them, right?"

And Lisa Simpson said "Of course I will, Ling. You just focus on getting better, ok?"

And three weeks later, Lisa Simpson knocked the door of her Aunt, Selma Bouvier.

"Ms. Bouvier, I'm afraid I bring you bad news" she said, with her most formal, work-place tone, to the twins.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **Well, this is it, I suppose.**

 **My First Ling Centric Story, and as far as I know the first one on this site. (Correct me if I'm wrong though)**

 **Credits to Lily Nirvana for the plot of this story**

 **Well, see you later guys.**

 **Davoid, Signing off.**


	15. A New Life

**A.N: the following story is an AU on the Simpsons Episode,** _ **At Long Last Leave**_

* * *

It was with three policemen aiming their guns at them that the last of the Simpsons finally got it in her head that they were, truly and completely, unwanted.

As Homer was thinking of a way to get out of this mess, Marge Simpson, the one who, up until now, didn't believe they were outcasts, said in an exhausted voice "don't even bother shooting us!"

The three Policemen, in shock of Marge taking charge and actually ordering _them_ around, sheathed their guns, and Marge continued "we've found a new place that _we_ love. A place that may not have indoor plumbing it's got something we treasure even more"

Homer who knew what was on her mind, said "yeah! Non-Jerks!"

The townsfolk gasped, and began talking amongst themselves, Marge rolled her eyes, "In our new community, people accept others for _who_ they are! I thought I wanted to come back to my house, but instead, I'm going to go Back to my Home!"

With most of the townspeople now considerably less aggressive (and dare he say it, a bit regretful), the couple walked out of the Town, and never looked back.

* * *

Until a week later, when Bart and Lisa, once more, started complaining about the lack of power in the 'city', and the lack of TV (and their electronic devices, all of which had ran out of Battery and needed to be charged again), when Marge gave up and said "Ok, that's it. the folks here are lovely and all, but I can't _take_ it anymore! We aren't cavemen! We can't live like one!" she threw down the cloths she wanted to wash, but hadn't. "Let's just move somewhere else. Springfield and Shelbyville might not want us, but there are four more cities in this state, not to mention the smaller cities, and five more states apart from this one that don't have a problem with us"

Homer couldn't agree more. Fact was, ever since the Trappucinno incident, Homer had started to slowly lose interest in Springfield.

His boss was a power-hungry ass who still didn't know his name after ten years of slaving off.

His _job_ didn't pay well, didn't give any insurance plans, and of course was _literally_ the post poisoned environment in the whole city (not that _that_ was saying much)

And his friends? He _had_ no friends. Only some guys sitting in a bar, drinking bear and talking about _guy_ stuff.

His only _real_ friends were Barney, and his ever-suffering Neighbor Ned. And he doubted he could live _there_ just because of two friends, one of whom he'd treated like an enemy, and the other who would probably forget about him as soon as a new regular showed up at Moe's.

His children didn't have it right here either, her Daughter out-casted and his Son underappreciated. The city had poisoned his son's mind, turning him into another Homer (and goddammit, he must've been the only man not to want his son to walk in his footsteps. He knew it'd lead him nowhere) and her daughter? She was getting depressed every other week!

And Marge? she was the only thing that kept him from even _suggesting_ a moving. Marge Loved it here in Springfield, all her friends and family were here, she couldn't _possibly_ go elsewhere!

Until now, that is. Now that even _Marge_ was fed-up of Springfield, it was time he could do what he should've, months ago!

The city _obviously_ didn't want any of them there, fine! They'd just leave.

And so they had. Well, not by their own choice, but by their own will.

But they were not living well in outland either.

Of course, Homer himself? He liked the Outland. He'd lost weight these last few weeks, and without the beer he was no more an alcoholic anymore. Of course, there was the moonshine that Cletus sometimes brought to the Outland, but he, being born a city boy and a professional (if he said so himself) drinker, didn't touch that. But Hey, the outland was cool, he had got his hands on cool weapons, cool cars and bikes. If you ignored the lack of a real hospital, the place had no real problems.

But the others? Despite her original thoughts about living in the wild, Lisa didn't like the Outland, neither did Bart (the sucker thought he was a wild spirit, someone who could handle himself in a place without rules. It'd took a week in Outland for him to learn that NO HE WAS NOT).

Marge, god bless her soul, didn't complain. But even Homer, dim as he were, could see she didn't like it either. Even though she'd finally let go of Springfield, she couldn't let go of her 'friends'.

But neither of them said anything, and neither of them started any discussion on whether their state of living in Outland was going to be permanent or not.

Until they came.

* * *

It was a regular day, Homer trying the new Bike (that _some genius_ had decided to put the motor of an AIRPLANE on) with his normal 'witty' commentary.

"you sure this is a good idea, dad?" asked Bart, who looked pretty skeptical of it.

Homer finally dropped the wrench he was using to tighten the bolts, and said "This is the Outland, boy! Ideas aren't 'good' or 'bad', they're just free!" he sat on the bike, ready to ride, and said "POWER ON!"

Marge shook her head as she saw the 'man of the house' ride a bike without actually watching where he was going, and said "Oh, Homer, when are you going to learn?" as she was trying to bait out a rattlesnake.

It was a normal day indeed. With Lisa studying a flower somewhere and Maggie playing with the other toddlers.

Then she heard a moaning from a bush somewhere nearby.

"Huh?" she turned towards the bush to see it moving side to side, on a perfectly windless day.

Bart, with a loaded Crossbow (How the hell did he even find these things here?) crept towards the bush, and said "I'm on it"

Aiming his bow at the bush, he said "Get out of the bush, or pull the trigger!"

Surprised at how menacing the ten-year-old boy sounded, Marge looked at the bush, where nothing happened.

"you have to the count of three. one"

Nothing, even the moaning had stopped now.

"Two"

There was a subtle sound of leaves being stepped on, and when Bart said "Three", a man dived out of the bush.

He was probably planning on taking Bart out with the dive, but he'd miscalculated the distance, and hit the ground instead.

"There, see how better it is when you cooperate with the guy who has the gun?" Bart aimed the bow at his nose when he looked up. "Lenny Lenferd, you're a long way from your _Barstool_ "

"I'm here as a friend!" Lenny, in his green shirt and blue jeans, stuttered as he looked at them, "Looking for a better way of life!"

Bart, Marge, and Lisa (who'd just joined them) shared a deadpan look, reaching a decision at the same time. but then Homer stopped the bike, shuddered and shook his head a few times to get rid of the soot, got off the bike, and said "hey Lenny, welcome aboard!"

What? that man might be a scumbag, but if _He_ was welcomed to the Outland, he had no right to not welcome others.

"This Here Town' called Outland. Build yourself a shed and live your life. I warn you though, if you find a little black thing on your pillow, it's probably not a mint"

Lenny said "I don't mind! I want a fresh start, and so does Carl!"

 _And so does Carl_.

 _And so. Does. Carl._

Homer blinked, took a deep breath, and after finding Carl and giving him the same greetings, left for his home.

Later that night, when Carl and Lenny each had a small shed they could stay the night in, he told the others "Carl is here, so's Lenny. It's not a good sign"

Lisa said "yes. If _They_ came here, there's two probabilities. Either they were banished too, which I find Unlikely, or something's happened. Which means the rest of them are most likely on their way here"

Marge and Bart sighed, "That's not a good thing, is it? the rest of them being here?" she said, "I doubt I can stand them, now that I know what kind of people we'd lived with all our lives"

Homer smiled, "it's simple then. We either Barricade the outland against them, which I doubt, or we get out of here."

And that was why five days later, when Moe, the Van Houtens, the Bouviers and Mayor Quimby also came there 'for a better way of life', the Simpsons loaded their truck and their car and moved out to Terror Lake.

ANYWHERE would be better than with those people.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **Yes. I changed the scene with Lenny, because while a ten-year-old boy being that ruthless and non-empathetic is unrealistic, a** _ **toddler**_ **hitting a grown-ass man with a club is even more.**

 **Also, that Bike that homer rode isn't the same as the one in the episode. If Homer had ridden something like that, his head would most likely be shredded. Seeing as I need Homer alive in this story, that bike was not like that. It was just really fast, produced a lot of smoke (and soot), and wasn't secured right.**

 **Kinda anticlimactic, I know, and maybe incomplete in its writing, but here's the thing.**

 **While I know it's a policy in the Simpsons that everything returns to the Status Quo at the end of every episode (with a few exceptions), I hated the ending to this episode.**

 **Like, WTF, they just threw the Simpsons out of the town, why are they following them to the Outland now? It's not like Springfield revolves around the Simpsons.**

 **Anyway, that's probably it.**

 **Until some time later,**

 **Davoid signing off.**


	16. Kampf Krusty

**A.N: I'm BACK!**

* * *

Much as they liked to believe otherwise, Camp Krusty was not what they'd thought it was.

Many of the children learned that about the first three days there, when Krusty didn't show up for the briefing (and another guy in a black suit came to greet them instead, from the very start sounding very stiff and wiener-y)

Many of the others finally got it together when they saw the 'Krusty Seal-of-Approval' beds and food, and learned the Clown cared not for them.

The last of them lost hope about when two weeks later, they were forced into crafting fake Gucci bags.

On that particular day, as Kearney the Jerk was sounding the drum, showing it was time for a short break, one of the kids, a second grader named Allison said to her best friend Janey "I can't take this much longer. Can't we do anything? The way these jerks are forcing us to work is revolting!"

Her best friend answered "we can go on a strike. Our only hope is if _EVERYONE_ is in on it, though"

A third girl, Lisa, who had incidentally listened to the two said "Are you guys sure we _can_ rebel? I doubt it'll work"

A fourth person, Ralph Wiggum, working on his Gucci bag near Lisa, said "My cat's name's Mittens"

To most, that would probably result in an eye-roll, it being the obvious show of Ralph's normal 'specialness'. But unlike Most, Janey was actually friendly to Ralph, and paid attention to him. and 'My Cat's Name is Mittens', in Ralph's particular tone while saying it, meant there was danger nearby.

One of the Bullies was getting near.

Janey said hurriedly "Just tell everyone you know to show up in the cabin after Light's out" before quickly back to her Gucci bag.

The other two understood what he meant and said nothing of it.

* * *

Over the next two hours, the four second-graders, with a technique mostly known as the 'telephone', managed to tell everyone they needed to show up in the cabin after Light's out.

If you asked for The reasoning behind this sudden gathering, you'd get many answers.

One would say the children were planning to kill everyone, another said it was just a plan from Dolff to overthrow Mr. White, one said it was all a ploy from the Radioactive man to take down his Arch-enemy, Snake-lord O'Hara.

Whatever the reason was, everyone was curious enough not to go to their bed when the Bullies Herded them to the cabins.

As soon as they knew the Way was clear, everyone sneaked out to a small cabin off the actual borders of the Camp.

"Why are we even going there?" asked Bart from his Sister, "Krusty's about to come here, didn't you hear what they said at the baseball fields?"

Lisa rolled her eyes, "you _really_ think he's going to come to our rescue after all this?" he said "yes. I'm not gonna give up hope just yet, he hasn't let me down yet, he won't now!"

Lisa, not having the heart to tell him exactly _How_ Many times the Clown had let him down, just continued walking, "So what's the harm, if he's going to come, then our gathering will be meaningless, won't you want to laugh at us then?"

The truth was, Krusty didn't _care_ about anyone, he hadn't known the meaning of 'caring' even before Sideshow Bob. And even though he was cruel to his Fans (who were various in the city), he was particularly cruel to the Simpsons, who'd rescued him (and helped him out) in _so many_ cases.

Without any further chitchat, Lisa walked to the Cabin, knowing Bart would be behind her anyway.

* * *

Forty Kids entered the Cabin, as silent as they could (even though they didn't really need to, Nelson was with them, and he knew the Bullies wouldn't be arsed to check a cabin this far from their own) right at Ten at night.

The Gathering was led by Lester, a fourth grader from Springfield East Elementary, who had come to the camp with the dreams of having fun. "Ladies and Gentlemen, today's topic, Mutiny" he said.

"It's been two weeks, and we haven't had fun even ONCE!" said Lester as he slammed his palm to the big table in front of them, "it's time we showed them what happens when you mess with the Springfielders!"

Another Kid, Martin Prince the Representative of the fat kids who were made working out extremely, said "This is in no way what we were promised! A pox on thee, Clown Krusty!"

Another cheered, "Yeah! Krusty is gonna get his due!"

That was when Bart decided to talk.

"Come on, Guys. Krusty's been around doing this for a long time! has he _ever_ led any of you down until now?" he rose, as it was tradition when talking to a group, and continued "Give the poor guy a Chance, maybe he couldn't come here until now, huh? maybe he was just busy!"

A few of the kids snickered, but most were paying attention to his words, seeing as nobody laughed at him, he continued, "Really, guys. Just give him one more chance. If everything doesn't change tomorrow, I'll help you, I'll _personally_ make sure Mr. Black is destroyed!"

Most of the kids were satisfied, but Alison was not. And she couldn't ask this loudly, but could say it quietly to the two people around him, "Why does it matter what _Bart_ does? Can't we just rebel on our own?"

Sadly, nobody cared.

fortunately, Allison Taylor wasn't known for how many shits she gave about Public Opinion...

* * *

The next day, Mr. Black called everyone to gather in the Talent show stage, saying there was something he wanted to announce.

When Everyone had settled down, now sitting easily but nervously, Mr. Black walked on the stage, stared at the kids looking at him in unease, and in some cases outright hostility.

He said "Well, Kids, I promised you a little treat and 'loo of Dinner, and here it is! The man who took an abandoned Mule tannery and turned it into a summer wonderland, Krusty the Klown!"

Bart grabbed Milhouse's shoulder and said frantically, "see! I told you Krusty would come! Just Like I said!" he laughed nervously and continued a little louder, "He's gonna bring us food and water! And SMITE our enemies!"

Then, his smile turned upside down.

The Clown opened the door of the Backstage and walked inside, but he was not the clown they wanted.

He wore the Purple T-Shirt, long sandals and white-and-green shorts, but he was no Krusty.

They'd know if he was. The man had a _Talent_ to ooze happiness and Giddiness when he wanted to, and in this case the clown would, most likely, _need_ his audience as happy as they could be.

This was no Krusty. But that was not the worst part.

The worst part was that The Clown was familiar. Bart (and to a lesser Degree Lisa) had seen that man before.

He was the town Drunk, the disgrace of Moe's Tavern, the man in red shirt who happened to be Homer's best friend.

Barney Grumble.

It was, precisely, at this point when Bart finally lost all hope. It was _precisely_ at this point when he reached the decision everyone else had reached a week ago.

That even _HELL_ would be better than this.

The kids were all noting how the _clown_ was different from Krusty. But none of them knew that man.

Bart rose furiously, " _That's_ not Krusty the Clown!"

Everyone gasped. Some of them seriously, most of them dramatically (for the sake of appearance)

Mr. Black laughed Nervously, and said "what, do you think I slapped a clown suit on some wine-o?"

He growled, "you picked the worst wine-o of them all. The one _anyone_ of us could figure out the identity of. You picked BARNEY!"

Bart, with eyes angry and fists clenched, said "alright guys. You win! _That's it_ "

"I've been scorched by that infernal clown before! I got rapid heartbeat from the Krusty-brand Vitamins, my Krusty Calculator didn't have a seven, _OR_ an eight, Krusty's autobiography was self-serving with _many_ glaring omissions. That clown has ignored me, made fun of me, and humiliated me a great many times, but _this time,_ he's gone TOO FAR!"

And with that, the kids went berserk.

With the unanimous vote of No-Confidence to the current Governate of the Camp, the Population decided to take things into their own hands, and take it into their own hands they did.

* * *

As the Kids were busy chanting things, Mr. Black said to his three subordinates, "you dolts were supposed to break their spirits!"

"We _did!_ " Jimbo Jones of Southern Springfield said so complainingly, to which Mr. Black rewarded him with a slap most sharp, "you broke _nothing!_ "

The infernal Red-shirted boy said "Let's _GET 'EM!_ " and with a new shout, the kids rose to run towards them.

Fear striking against his Heart, Mr. Black said "To the Hydrofoil!" as his three cronies ran towards the ship.

Even though the kids were full of spirit, they were not even close in speed to a grown man with a fear of his life strengthening his feet.

The Man was faster than any, and ran to the boat, which was supposed to get him to the mainland, and made sure Jimbo revved the engine.

Which did nothing.

As the Kids were closing in on them, he knocked Jimbo aside to the water and said "What the-" revving the engine again, to no result.

Allison, then, came forward and said "did I forget to mention you ran out of Gas? That boat doesn't do a thing"

With the kids, armed to teeth with home-made weapons made of stuff they could find (one even had a bow aimed at them) surrounding the shore in front of them, Mr. Black dropped his head.

Then, the leaders of the rebellion came forward, a Martin Prince, a Bart Simpson, a Lester Brown, an Arno Beaumont, and an Allison Taylor.

As the representative, Allison took a step forwards, "You have two choices. Surrender to our _Justice_ , and accept your sentences, or jump down and swim to the mainland. I wouldn't suggest the second, but I'd decide it if I were you."

Jimbo and Dolff were not sure which to choose, but the sight of one of the kids holding a sharp axe, and another using a whip made them make up their minds.

All four jumped down to the river, letting the fast water currents carry them away.

Lester shouted "The Camp is OURS!"

And so it was.

The Camp was theirs.

Now, all that remained was having fun until their time was up, and Otto would return to take them home.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **Ended it on that on purpose.**

 **The idea for this chapter came from the news headline that there is going to be an episode in Season 28 named 'Kamp Krustier', a direct Sequel to Kamp Krusty. Hopefully they won't muck it up. Much.**

 **The episode was a bit weird imo. I mean yes, it's a beloved classic and therefore can't have any faults, but the fact everyone** _ **waited**_ **for Bart 'Gullible' Simpson to reach a decision was a bit too Simpsons-centric imo (something they made fun of quite a lot later, when Lester and Eliza did that stuff in the end of an episode.)**

 **So, in this story I decided to take a more scenic route, if you know what I mean.**

 **In other news, I'm going on a hiatus for a while, seeing as I'm going on a trip next (and will have to work on a few more chapters for when I have internet connection again), so don't expect an update for the next week, at least. (hopefully I'll have two or three chapters up by then)**

 **As always, I'm always open to suggestions.**

 **Davoid, Signing off.**


	17. Bart's New Friend

[ **A.N: This is a Bart POV story, but hopefully without any bashing.** ]

* * *

It was a problem Bart always had. He couldn't think of Homer as his Father.

Most of the other kids in town weren't like that. Now I don't mean the fact they called their Fathers 'Dad', or 'Father' or 'Pa' or something like that instead of the man's given name. I don't mean the fact most of them couldn't actually share what'd happened to them without a risk of something.

I mean it like this. To Bart Simpson, Homer was not an older man to be respected. He was not some big guy mysteriously disappearing into the town every morning bringing back with him all kinds of cool stuff in the night. He was not a man to look up to.

To Bart Simpson, Homer was a confidant, a Brother, a friend.

To Bart Simpson, Homer was the guy he always got into crazy adventures with. The Guy he'd get into fights with (Though, the _slight_ age difference was always a problem in that case, what with Homer's hand being bigger than Bart's neck and Bart's Bones weaker than Homer's fat stomach) over stupid stuff. The Guy he could trust would _always_ help him when he'd got humiliated, obviously after he'd stopped laughing…

To Bart, Homer was everything he _Wanted_ Milhouse to be.

Not that there were any problems with Milhouse, of course. A Nerdy Best Friend, on occasion a bit slow, who would always have his back when necessary. Milhouse was a great guy, but he wasn't the 'Best Friend' a guy Like Bart would want. More like…a Crony. Which was a bit alarming for Bart, as he didn't think of himself as a Bully.

To Bart, Homer was the brother he never had, the brother he _wished_ he had, and the brother he always wanted.

Maybe this was why Bart didn't go through any emotional problems when Homer found himself Hypnotized into think he was ten years old.

It was Perfect! The God above that didn't exist had answered the prayers he'd never said!

* * *

That day was weird even when it started.

In all these years he'd knew Homer, he couldn't remember Even **one** case of Homer being serious about his Work. To be precise, he didn't know what Homer did for work.

Something about sitting behind a giant computer thingie, like those the space pilots in Star Trek used, and eating Donuts.

He knew Homer got fired from the Job once every few months, and always got his job Back. He Knew Homer hated his Job, and he knew Homer went to the job for some reason (he couldn't think a good reason. He wouldn't go work in a place he hated. Why Homer did he had no idea) and he knew Homer always did, as said by Shary Bobbins, a Half-Assed Job.

But for the life of him, he did NEVER remember Homer focus on anything, much less work.

And this new Homer was not the one he knew. This new Homer got angry even Quicker (and his anger was normally explosive, in the form of a beer bottle being tossed out of the window, or a punch creating a crack on a wall). This new Homer had no time for Playing, or Watching TV, or taking the kids out to places.

This new Homer was boring. And much as Bart sometimes didn't like Homer, this new Homer, often times, Bart HATED.

But he knew what was wrong with the new Homer. He needed to go Have Fun.

Which was why he, discreetly, put hints about a Circus all around the house that day.

Lisa may consider herself a Master Manipulator, But Bart was a natural in that art. In destroying people, and making them do what he wanted.

For example, it was an easy thing to set the table that morning so that all the Krusty products were near each other, on Mom's Side.

It was quite easy to raise the Volume of the TV when it was near the Commercials, mostly when it was about the Carnivals in town.

Randomly mentioning clowns and acts when Dad was working (and mom shaking her head at him) helped too.

Before he knew it, Mom had told them to wear something for going outside, as they were supposed to go to the Circus that day.

 _Hook, Line, and Stinker!_

* * *

It was a disaster.

Homer brought the blasted laptop with him. He didn't even _look_ at the Clowns coming out of the small tent, he Punched a clown for a practical Joke, and he was nagging about Parking all the time.

When Mom went to the Bathroom, Bart knew what he had to do.

A Carnival, A Ferris Wheel, a sword-eater, a Fire-breather. Aha! The Hypnotist's tent

"Hey, dad. Since we got away, can we _Please_ see an act?" he said, Complainingly.

Homer sighed a Long Suffering Sigh, and said "Ugh, _Fine_. But I'll be amazed if I'm Astounded."

Inside was the local hillbilly, Cletus, talking to the crowd, "Thereby proving Zorn's Lemma."

Bart doubted Cletus could even pronounce half the words in the sentence he'd just said. Apparently the man's Wife thought the same, for she rose, pointed at the Well-dressed man with a turban and a blue frock and said "Gimme mah Daym Husband back!"

The Man, probably the 'Sven Golly' this tent was named after, snapped his fingers once, to which the Man blinked, before pointing at the signs on the Blackboard behind him, and saying something about 'them Hobo Signs'…

This was Perfect! If this didn't take Homer's mind off the work for a few hours, Bart wasn't sure it would be even _within_ the realm of Possibility.

A few minutes later, after Making Mr. Van Houten bark like a dog, Rodd Flanders rap, and Martin Prince walk on his knees, Sven Golly said "I need a new Volunteer!"

Before walking over to Homer, showing him a silver-golden Watch, "How about you, Sir?"

Bart _Knew_ sitting in the front was a good idea!

Now, Homer would be…

"Hey, is that time right? I have a deadline in three half hours!"

Damn it.

This was Hopeless.

Bart dropped his head, already knowing they'd be back home in a few hours, and Homer would resume being a workaholic again. until his mysterious Guardian Angel came to his help in the Form of Lisa, who said "You know, dad, Studies show being Hypnotized makes one more efficient"

Homer reluctantly rose, walking to the center with Mr. Golly. Ready to watch Homer go all genius on them like that time, Bart whispered to Lisa "'s that true?"

Lisa snickered softly, "meh, I just wanted to see him cluck like a chicken"

Sometimes, Bart doubted Lisa was actually a child. Then, at these times he'd learn to drop the doubts.

The Hypnotist, in true Showman Fashion, talked homer into Concentrating on the watch. Soon enough Homer was in a trance, not a normal trance but a trance nonetheless.

"When I snap my finger, you shall be… _ten years old_!" said the Showman, but an unimpressed Homer just said "look, can we get to the point, I'm stack parked, didja hear me? Stack-" *SNAP!*

Homer's eyes widened, he stopped talking, and then stood straight up.

A moment of silence.

"You're ten years old!" said the Showman excitedly. Homer smiled mischievously and said in a voice all would think childish, "no I'm not"

"yes you are"

"No I'm not"

"Yes you are"

"No I'm not"

"Yes you are!"

"Yes you are"

"no, yes, _Yes_ YOU are!"

"Yes _You are_ "

"Look, I said 'You Are'"

"Then you are too!"

Bart smirked, then smiled, then looked at amazement. This was like something out of a Looney Tunes show.

It was funny, and Homer wouldn't remember it, so he could piss the guy off for now…

Well, for the next three minutes, at least.

Which was when the Police barged in, "Sven Golly, born Svengamin Golly! You're under arrest for mesmerizing the rock and roll hall of Fame into induct KISS. You are wanted by the police by which I mean Sting" at which point the hand clock had him too merserized to do anything.

Sven Golly left.

Before Fixing Homer…

Homer was _really_ a ten-year-old now!

* * *

Homer was a really cool ten-year-old kid.

Almost as cool as Bart (If he said so himself. Many probably thought he was cooler than Bart too)

He was as much a trouble maker and as ADD as Bart Himself, as creative as Lisa, and even faster than them.

His actions were childish now, he didn't stand as tall as he used to, he was quicker to reach a conclusion (and he was a fun-loving kid too)

Homer was the brother he always wanted. The Brother he always wished Lisa was.

Until later that night, when they were sharing a bed (For some reason, he couldn't sleep with mom. Once more, confusing and needlessly complicated).

Homer sighed happily, "today was fun"

Bart, taking the smaller part of the bed, grinned slyly, " _yeah_. Listen Homer, D'ya ever Think about what you wanna do when you're grown up?"

He'd thought this was a good question. It'd give him a lot of Blackmail material for later, and they'd have a good night of sleep after a heart laugh tonight.

Just like any other carefree kid of that age, Homer said "I'll eat in bed. Not just snacks, you know, _messy_ stuff like lasagna. Oh and the TV would be on. _Loud_."

Bart Blinked.

That was a brief answer…

He rose again, "No, Homer. I meant more like what you want to do when you grow up"

Homer frowned slightly, thinking, before answering "I'd probably be in a Bowling Alley. It's a cool job, and you can never _not_ have fun. I'd even live there if I could!"

Bart rolled his eyes, before sitting in bed, "do you ever wanna have a _real_ job and a family?"

"pffft, a Wife? Two-and-a-half kids? Steady job?" Homer stood abruptly, blowing a raspberry, "If I did, I'd be _really_ sad. Even the dumbest guy could tell by how much I would eat and drink and just sit on the couch." As Bart let out a gasp, Homer chuckled, "yeah. Thank god _that_ never happened!" and as abruptly as he'd rose, he went into sleep, his snores filling the room.

It was a real big eye opener.

And, while Bart probably didn't show it, it was something that really got into his mind.

 _My Father, the man who bore me, and the guy who basically pays for my everything wishes he didn't have us. He hates a family life with Children._

Now, the fact Homer hadn't _originally_ wanted children wasn't lost on Bart. After all, there's only so many times you can go on hearing the sentence 'you are an accident' in different forms before you understand what it means. He knew that both Lisa _and_ Maggie were accidents too. (Though he couldn't understand why. Did the Stork get the address wrong or something?)

But he always liked to think Homer loved them. At least as his Children. He always liked to think that Homer was a family man.

But now he knew better. He'd heard it from the guy himself. In a moment of unaccounted vulnerability, The Man had spilt the beans.

Life was hard for Homer Simpson. Life was _depressingly_ hard for Homer Simpson. and Bart, with his actions, antics, and pranks, wasn't making this any easier.

That night, for the first time in so many years, He _actually_ thought of Homer as his father. As the guy who held their little family together. And for the first time in equally many years, he decided he needed to change his act.

Pranks was fine. Screwing with the Teachers and Students was fine. But nothing that could give Homer any more stress.

Ironically, when Homer was fixed, returning into his forty-year-old form again, he never Strangled Bart again.

Friendly punching and pranks (Homer did have his vicious pranking streak as well) were still there, but there was no more of a hulking man running towards him with hands ready to grab his throat. No more "WHY YOU LITTLE!"

And Life couldn't be any better. For either of them.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **Sorry. I was planning on writing a Sideshow Bob Story. And a Chief Wiggum Story, and a Kent Brockman Story. But then I watched 'Bart's New Friend' and this never left me…**

 **I always like Homer/Bart or Marge/Bart BONDING. (Marge gamer and Marge's Son Poisoning are two of my favorite episodes for that exact reason. and I like it when Bart and Homer bond. like the SUB-PLOT of The Marge-ian Chronicles or the Third act of the episode where Agnes Skinner fakes her death) so you might see more Homer/Bard Bonding or Marge/Bart Bonding stories from me (Marge/Lisa Bondings are cool too. or, used to be. now its generally Lisa being a little B*tch or Marge being stupid.)**

 **Next up (I do not know when It will be, of course), either one of the three stories mentioned above, or another plot (That may or may not have anything to do with either of the three)**

 **Davoid, Signing off.**


	18. The Bartman

**[The Following Story is a crack Story, distinctly non-canon, and is** _ **loosely**_ **based on the events of the old** _ **Bartman**_ **comics, issues 4 through 6, with major changes in minor details (the actual plot of the story is untouched). More about that in the AN footer.]**

* * *

 **Act One: The Conjurer begins**

For the Longest time, He was Springfield's sole superhero.

For the longest time, he had defended the Nerds. He'd fought against the Brotherhood of the Bullies. He'd showed the guiltiness of many a-criminals. He'd chased many robbers. He wore the purple cape and cowl with pride, pulling many things out of his utility belt like a Mary Poppins.

He was the devil in Blue Shorts, the Masked Menace, The Gentleman Bandit, the Defender of the Nerd, the Crusher of Bullies.

The Bartman.

He was an Idol to most of the kids, and while Lisa wasn't particularly happy about how the boy loved comic books so much (Seeing as he was basically a comic book character himself), She respected him as well. dare she say it, after he'd saved her in the school, admired even.

But she couldn't believe he was in her backyard.

She was going out just to take a break but she soon knew she wasn't going to have any, not after seeing the Mysterious Costumed Vigilante on the ground before Bart's Treehouse, grabbing his leg in pain, biting on his lip not to scream.

She gasped loudly, before running to the hero. "Are you alright, Bartman?" she said, going down to one knee to see what'd happened to the boy, in a tone that _screamed_ pain, said "Ugh…Yes, Ma'am, I'm fine…just give me a few-" before passing out.

 _Damn_.

Well, what were they expecting from her? Of course she pulled the mask off him, she was curious.

And then she saw it. it was Bart.

Bart Simpson. Her big, annoying, _definitely not on the side of law_ , pranking, menace of a brother.

It was a wonder how nobody in the city had ever connected the dots. Nine-stick hairs, the ever-famous catchphrases, even his unique type of Mischief.

Lisa Simpson couldn't believe nobody knew the Infamous Bartman was Bart Simpson. she couldn't believe he didn't know it even more.

But alas, it was the truth.

And now, she couldn't _Believe_ she'd once participated in a Superhero Costume contest as _Bartgirl_. Dear god, what had Bart _Thought_ of her when he found out?

Well, with knowing Bart was actually Bartman, she also knew he probably wouldn't want to be seen by anyone else either, much less dad or Mom.

She had to carry him up to her room, and girl was he heavy.

* * *

Bart woke up in a bed.

He didn't expect to. He hadn't fell asleep in a bed after all.

Bart was in a bed he wasn't expecting to be. The room's wallpapers were purple, the walls had _award certificates_ on them, and it was goddamn tidy.

 _Tidy_.

Bart NEVER kept his room tidy on purpose. And he was sure his room wasn't tidy when he left it that morning.

Furthermore, there was someone else in the room. Sitting behind a chair, not facing him.

 _Damn it. who's that?_ He thought, thinking anyone he could think of that would try to abduct him.

 _Sideshow Bob? Jack Lassen? Seymour Skinner? Goddammit, Who IS that?_ He rose groggily, pain flashing through his leg, making him wince. _Broken Leg! Right, I fell of the treehouse…_ then his eyes widened, _LISA!_

Then, it all came back to him.

Milhouse was in trouble, and Brockman was framing _Bart_ for it. he was planning on going to save him.

Goddammit, he knew he shouldn't've jumped down the tree.

 _She had probably unmasked him-_ he frantically looked at his arms. The grey Body armor wasn't there. He was wearing his regular red T-shirt…neither was his cape.

The Chair swirled, and Lisa, who was sitting by it, rose, walking over and sitting on the bed, next to Bart.

"How're you feeling?" she said, not looking at him directly. He moaned in pain, clutching his knee, before saying "kinda like what I expect Homer did after falling off the gorge…" he lied back down, eyes closed shut, then let out a sigh.

"Could it be True, Bart? Could I have Stumbled upon the sought-after criminal in the history of Springfield?"

"So you know" he said, looking at the ceiling without his eyes open, "Well, what are you going to do about it, Report me to Wiggum?"

Lisa said "not until you answer me. Is what Kent Brockman's saying on TV true?" Bart laughed hollowly, "that I what? stole comic books? Killed Policemen? Kidnapped Houseboy?" he shook his head, "I thought you knew me better than that, Lis'"

Lisa held her head in her hands, and said "I thought I did, Bart. I thought I did. Then I walk into my backyard and see _you_ laying down there in a perfect replica of the Bartman's costume. Dear god, how did I _not_ connect the dots? 'Bartman'? who else could it be?"

Bart chuckled hollowly, "not my smartest alias, I know. But you have to believe me, I would never do any of that stuff. At least not in the Bartman's costume. And not in public"

Lisa sighed. Bart was right.

Some of the stuff Brockman was sticking to him were a bit Out-of-Character, even for him.

"So, what are you going to do now? Is Bartman ever going out in public again?" she asked, changing the subject.

Bart said "Even before today, I was perfectly fine with leaving that persona to the past. But with Milhouse in trouble, I can't…I can't stop being Bartman. But I can't be him either." He pointed at his leg, "Not with Mr. Leg like this. by the way, shouldn't you be calling mom to send me to the Hospital?"

* * *

Lisa went to Mom next, explaining that Bart had fainted after falling out the treehouse, and that Lisa had brought him to her room. After being reimpanded for her action and being reminded that you shouldn't carry a person who's fallen from a treehouse unless you're trained to do so, they took Bart to a Hospital.

Fortunately, the damage wasn't lasting. Just six weeks in a Cast.

But as they were returning home, she thought of what Bart had said.

He was right. with a broken Leg, Bartman couldn't be active anymore. But Someone needed to hold the fort while he was away.

Who better than her? Surely, if _Bart_ could be a hero, then Lisa would obviously be a better one than him.

Now, to choose a name and a costume…

* * *

 **Act two: Greenpact Covenant**

* * *

A week later, Kent Brockman said "With Bartman finally getting the message and Leaving, it seems that costumed underage vigilantism has taken trend. The newest of this line is the violent Conjurer, who's been attacking the bank robbers during, and after their felonies."

The Conjurer. Bart's attention got piqued. _A new superhero?_ He thought, _who's that supposed to be?_

Then, at the sight of the photo taken from her, he rolled her eyes.

Lisa.

Of course, Who else could it be?

So that's why she'd forced him to give her six months of his allowance. To create her own costume.

At least she was effective. That meant there was no need for him to ever return. Milhouse could just team up with her if he felt like it. Bart was done with being a superhero. That work was hard, and really non-rewarding. He'd never strained his foot while _pranking_.

* * *

She just _had_ to go after the big guns. She couldn't just stick to the small time crooks and robbers. She _had_ to go after a named _supervillain._ Okay, not a famous named supervillain, but still. Personally, she blamed Bart's Comic books.

She had to agree the costume gave her an unusual amount of self-confidence and bravery. After all, whatever Lisa Simpson wasn't capable of doing, the Conjurer most likely was.

Sadly, that didn't seem to be true in the case of the Canker, whoever he was.

The Canker was a dangerous man, and apparently smarter than what Lisa expected. She was trapped, and like in an issue in the older Batman Comics, she was tied and suspended from the ceiling, slowly being lowered to a vat of acid. That apparently existed inside a small hideout in the middle of a city.

The irrelevancy of it all was making her _really_ laugh. An Acid Pit, in the middle of the city, where _everyone_ lives. She didn't think these sort of stuff happened out of Comic books.

Now she was glad she hadn't made Maggie come with her on these adventures too.

* * *

Bart sighed. Lisa wasn't home yet. In fact, she hadn't been home for three straight days.

The first day he'd pretended to be Her when Mom came to kiss her goodbye (as she was planning to go out with Homer), the second day he'd told them She was having a Sleepover at Janey's.

But he didn't think he could succeed in fooling Mom for a third time. Lisa was out, probably in the field in her costume, and if she wasn't on a _particularly_ tricky case that required serious detective work, then she was in trouble.

Either way she could use the help.

But _where_ was she? He had no idea, like how _he_ didn't talk to civilians about his _dual-identity_ , Lisa was not one to talk about her cases. And with no leads, it would take _days_ before Bart could find her, and that was if he actually had a healed leg. His leg was still in a cast as it were.

Well, Fortunately, there was _one_ tracker in the home, and said tracker was quick enough to carry Bart too.

Well not carry, per se, but something close enough.

* * *

"Come on boy, can you trace the smell?" he said, letting the Hound smell one of the Dresses that Mom hadn't picked up for laundry yet.

He knew it normally didn't happen like that, but screw this. this was his only hope of helping Lisa out, and after _she'd_ not spilt about his secrets, he owed her that much.

He put the dog on a leash, and jumped on his skateboard. They had a lead to chase.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, he was standing in front of the Channel Six Studio, Santa's little helper (Excuse me, 'Bartdog') panting as he jumped down the skateboard and limped towards the studio, in full costume, his utility belt full.

"Brockman" he yelled at the news reporter, and yelled "Where is the Conjurer?"

The Newsman said "What is it, Bartman, do you wish to kill her too, the way you killed your former Sidekick Houseboy?" Bart rolled his eyes, but then slammed his palm on the desk, startling the reporter, and grabbed his tie, looking at him menacingly, "What's your beef with me, Brockman?"

"Oh, my crusade against you is not personal, Freak! All I want is to make more people interested in the local news, you see. I'm working for the good of us all!"

 _So just a rating scam, then_. Bart thought, and then growled "If you have something to say to me, Say it to my _face_! This is between _you,_ and _me_! don't bring others into it!"

The Reporter laughed, "Oh, believe me. I plan to bring _everyone_ into it!" two hands grabbed Bart from behind, and forced him off Brockman, the reporter straightened his tie, and said "now, the good people of Springfield are waiting outside, and they're here for one thing. To see _who's_ behind that mask!"

Bart looked sideways, trying to glance at the people holding him. they were both security guards from Channel six.

This was a _trap!_

Bart growled, and tried to wiggle out of their hold, but they were stronger than him, dammit.

Brockman slowly walked towards the big door in his office, one that led outside, and said "Bring him with you if you can, boys" but before he could, a voice from above said "well, I suppose it's time we were revealed too".

Everyone looked up, in the shadows of the ceiling, seven figures could be made out.

 _Other Capes?_ Bart Thought, _Who're they supposed to be?_

The seven figures jumped down, and knocked the guards out, one of them said "Hello Bartman. We meet at last"

* * *

"Milhouse? Is that you?" Lisa said to the boy in a green-and-yellow suit. the boy said "L-Lisa? What are you-" he paused, looking at the shell on her head, and the red yellow cape she wore. " _you're a cape too_?"

She sighed, "Yes. Your Previous Partner has gone…inactive. I had to take his role for a while" Milhouse said "SO he _didn't_ come to my help? Even after I was kidnapped?"

I rolled my eyes, "Oh quit your whining, Milhouse. His leg's broken. He can't even _walk_ properly, much less do what we do!"

Milhouse said "But- But-"

"Shut your yap and look to find a way out of here. Do you happen to have a grappling hook with you?"

Milhouse said "Of course I do, but-"

"Then try to get it out! We can use it"

"But my hands are tied! I'm as hogtied as you are, Lisa. I can't-"

"no names on the field. It's Conjurer!"

Both of them groaned, and moved around, trying to swing the rope that held them to a place where they _wouldn't_ drop in an acid pit.

* * *

"who _are_ you guys?" asked Bart as he massaged his wrists, "I've never seen you guys around"

One of them, a boy in a blue body armor with a green cape and mask who wore his hair like someone who's been electrocuted, said "We are the other capes. Those who never got _your_ notoriety." When the rest of his group stood nearby, finally standing in line.

Next to him was a boy with blue hair, someone almost _identical_ to Milhouse both in Armor and looks, except for the fact he had a set of weird-looking black goggles on his head, covering his eyes. _I'm gonna call this one 'Milhouse 2'_

Next to him stood another boy, this one without any mask on his head. The fat boy with blond hair combed in curls was someone Bart could recognize any day. _Martin Prince_.

He was wearing a blue Jacket, and a darker blue overall under it, with blue gauntlets and boots included.

Next to him were two other people Bart would recognize any day (what with them sitting behind his seat in school every day for the last four years), a set of twins with a weird shade of Blue hair, both wearing (you guessed it) blue armor, purple belts (with golden buttons)

They looked identical (like always, when they were in their normal clothing), but for one simple difference. One of them had an S emblem on her armor, while the other had a T emblem.

Next to the two of them stood another girl, this one basically wearing a parody of the kryptonian armor of the Power Girl, with a symbol of Lightning on her armor.

And the last one in the line was the weirdest of the bunch. He looked almost _identical_ to Bart himself, even with the spiky hair, but unlike the rest of them, he wore no armor. He just worse a set of green pants and t-shirts with an orange cape, and on his eyes were a green mask.

The first guy said again "in order, Fighting Owl, four eyes, The Noir Nightingale, the Wonder twins, The Powersause girl, and the Cupcake Kid."

[ **A.N: have you been wierded out yet? If not, I'm not doing my job right.** ]

Bart Blinked. "there's a superhero team full of pre-teen people, and I didn't _know_ about it?" he shook his head, "who are you people? What do you really want?"

Martin- sorry, The Nightingale said "What we want is Irrelevant, Bartman. We're here to tell you the location of Houseboy and the Conjurer. You have some allies to rescue"

* * *

 **Act Three: Rescue**

* * *

They finally met the Canker. Well, 'Houseboy' finally met the Canker (as Lisa had, once before)

The Canker looked almost like what most people expected Grim Reaper to look like, just without the scythe, His ghostly face not showing any feature (a mask, obviously). The Villain said "So, you two are the new comical booklet heroes in this city, eh?" he rubbed his hands together, and said "I suppose you'll have to do. I was planning to take on Bartman but he seems to have disappeared"

A Voice said "Not anymore!" and then, came a _whoosh_ , something hitting the villain in the face and making him stagger back. Out of the same shadow the _object_ had been thrown, jumped out a boy in blue cape, riding a skateboard towards the lean, slender villain. He glanced at Lisa for one mere second, then looked at the rope, before getting back to the villain.

Lisa got the memo. She said "Swing us towards them, Houseboy!" and the two of us began to swing ourselves with the rope towards them, almost like what I'd expect Tarzan would do in the jungle. Hopefully Bart managed to take in the timing while throwing another of those _things_ at us as he ran towards the villain, because the rope was torn right on time, and the two of us rolled towards the ground, bracing for impact.

* * *

As Bart's skateboard hit the villain, he readied himself for combat. This wouldn't take long. Hopefully.

And it didn't take long, because Bart was not pulling back any punches while attacking the Canker, he rolled just in time between the guy's legs, and then kicked him in the leg from the behind, forcing him to one knee, then began punching him in the face repeatedly, until he felt his fists hurt, kicked the villain once more, and then backhanded him hard, getting a groan of pain from the villain.

The Conjurer and Houseboy came forward, and he said "now, let's see whose ass I just whooped" before tearing the Hood and mask off the man's face.

Only to see an old man with a long nose, white hair and eyes shining with hatred.

Bart knew this man. He'd been his heir for a short while, and had been hit by his car before.

"Mr. Burns?"

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **I'm gonna end this chapter right here, on a cliffhanger. Because I'm evil.**

 **Okay, so background information. Back when The Simpsons were still in their first seasons, a phenomenon hit the streets of the US, called 'Bart-mania'. Bart, sadly, became the Role-model of many children, his Catchphrase humor and slapstick Prankster Identity growing popular in the masses. (seriously, I love the character, if anything these last 17 chapters should be a clue, but he's not a good role model)**

 **It was about then, in the 90s, when Bart started getting his own Superhero Identity,** _ **Bartman**_ **(The identity was shown in a few classic episodes as a Joke, and a different version of Bartman with a grittier Origin story was one of the three segments of the Episode 'Revenge is a dish best served Three times'.).**

 **It's main Comic Series, 'Bartman' ran for a short while, abruptly getting canceled after the sixth issue. Bartman still appeared on the Comic books, of course, mostly dealing with Sci-Fi situations (Like Itchy and Scratchy trying to give everyone superpowers, or Sideshow bob sending him to an alternate universe to fight with an Evil Version of Bart 'King Bart' for two examples. Read the comics if you want) and completely Messy, Chaotic situations.**

 **This chapter was mostly written so I could try my hand on Superhero!Bart. every single character I mentioned has appeared either in the Series (Cupcake Kid) or in the Comics (Fighting Owl and Four eyes being from Shelbyville (Bartman had to team up with them to defeat someone in Shelbyville. I don't remember the actual details), Noir Nightingale, The Wondertwins and Powersause girl from a recent comic book in which Lisa asked them to Save Bartman when the Crazy Cat Lady had kidnapped him (I'm serious) and The Conjurer being the Identity Lisa took in the storyline this chapter is based on.**

 **In the original Storyline, Lisa the Conjurer and The Great Maggeena (Maggie's Identity) team up when Bart sprains his leg in Bartman #5, and the Canker kidnaps them when they try to rescue Milhouse, and then tries to kill them, at which point Bartman comes to the rescue, kicks the Canker's ass, finds out he's a robot replica of Mr. Burns who Lenny had created to discredit him. in the end, Bart decides not to tell the police about this if Lenny lets him play videogames in his house for the next ten years.**

 **But well, a few things I decided to leave out (Maggie being a superhero one of them. It was too crack even for this story), and decided to change the dialogues and the scenes.**

 **Also, as for the Costume, imagine he's wearing the costume Bartman Wore in 'Revenge is a dish best served three times'.**

 **So yeah, that's the end of this story.**

 **Sorry for messing with you guys, hopefully you won't cuss me for writing this.**

 **Next time, it will be in the normal (!) Springfield, with the normal characters doing normal stuff.**

 **I am, as always, open to suggestions.**

 **Davoid, signing off**


	19. Yellow Subterfuge

[ **A.N: the following story is based on the events of The Yellow Subterfuge** ]

* * *

He noticed how Bart looked that day. How _hopeful_ he looked, truly planning to go on the field trip.

Of course, he didn't really count on the boy being _capable_ of not being a menace for an entire week, but he could respect the spirit.

"Sweetie, about your submarine…what's your favorite food to eat when you're disappointed?" asked Marge, supposedly unrelated to the topic, "I'm going Shopping tomorrow."

Bart answered in a skeptic tone "Ice cream Sandwiches, why?"

Homer chuckled, and then said "What your Mother's trying to say is: We don't think you can be good that long"

Bart apparently, was appalled at this obvious fact of life, " _Mom!_ Is that true?"

Marge, put between a rock and a hard place, said "well...that's sort of what I was trying to say…But-"

Homer came to her aid again. "what your mother is trying to say is-"

Bart said in a high-pitched voice " _No!_ you're wrong! You're all wrong!"

"Hey, I didn't say anything…" said Lisa, like always the voice of reason in the family, to which Bart replied "Were you _thinking it_?" Lisa dropped her head and said "Yes."

Homer, still in a good mood as before, continued "get _real_ , ding-dong. You've already tortured Skinner so many times he's never gonna letcha on that boat"

Just Like Lisa would do, Bart went into Denial mode, "no! Skinner said _everyone_ had a clean slate! So right now I'm as good as any other kid!"

Homer was proud to mention he wasn't the only one laughing at the absurdity of that statement. Lisa and Marge were laughing too. Okay, not Marge, But Lisa was laughing twice as hard, and could cover for Marge as well.

"Mom!" Bart said complainingly, "do something!"

"Don't listen to them! _They're_ the ding-dongs!" said Marge supportively, "Bart, Sweetie, this is a rare opportunity for you to turn things around. Yet again! and _I_ believe in you! Yet again!"

Those words had their effect. Well, them or the offer of Riding in a Submarine, because from that moment onward, Bart changed his act. He got rid of all devices of temptation, he stopped pulling pranks, and he even _washed_ himself before going to school.

The boy had gone crazy, was all Homer could conclude.

* * *

 **POV change**

The next five days, straight Monday to Friday, were one of the hardest weeks Bart had ever passed while on School.

The School had gone into a state of martial law, Whenever Skinner walked out of his room, it was almost like a scene from a Western movie, everyone shying away from the Big bad guy with a gun, and the poor bastard missing his chance getting shot in the face.

If Bart was a few years older, he'd probably say the school was basically in a Totalitarian state, with Skinner basically being the lawmaker, law enforcer, and lawgiver. But alas, Bart wasn't old enough to even having _heard_ of something like this.

All he knew was that Skinner already suspected him, and was looking for the smallest reason to cross him off the list.

And his Name wasn't Bart Simpson if he couldn't actually survive this week without causing _any_ trouble.

* * *

As it happened, All Skinner needed to cross him off the list was the tiniest misdemeanor. Bart leaving muddy shoeprints on the floor as he raced the bell being one.

It didn't matter to him that the bus had basically stopped in the middle of the road. It didn't matter to him that the boy was panting like no tomorrow. It didn't matter to him that he came _earlier_ than the other children, all of them covered in soot from the bus crash.

All Skinner cared about was the fact he'd broken the spirit of a ten-year-old kid.

And That, to Homer Simpson, was Unacceptable. Not because Bart was his son (the fact he called the kid 'The Boy' should tell you that much), but merely because he'd been victim to such unfairness from another principal himself.

Still, the boy was trying to fix his 'mistake', and Homer knew interfering at this point would make things even worse.

But the day the Submarine was supposed to descend, He woke up, already knowing what would happen.

That morning, about after Bart said "I'm going to the submarine, don't wait for me!", Lisa said in a deadpan voice "I don't see that happening"

Of course she had the tact to say that _after_ Bart had left the house, but Marge heard it.

She sighed, and said "I don't know what to say. He'd tried so hard to be good this week, I don't think this will encourage him that much"

They wouldn't know it, but Marge was, obviously, right. that was the last time Bart straightened his act. For a very long time.

But at the time, all of them knew she was right. Bart's mind worked in one dimension only. No equation could have more than one variable. And in this case, the cause and effect were obvious. Bart being good had caused him NOT to go to the submarine. Bart being bad would have the same result, but wouldn't be as hard. Conclusion? Don't be good.

"He really tried his best, have you seen the grades he got this week?" Said Lisa, and Marge moaned, "Hmmm…well, there goes any hope I had of Bart remaining good. Homer, you should go after him."

Homer moaned, " _aw!_ Do I have to?"

Marge rolled her eyes, "You're his father, Homer. You're the one he can relate to best. Don't you think you should at least _try_ being a father before he reaches fifteen, leaves us, and we never see him again."

And that was why Homer drove his car to the docks, where Bart was staring at the sea. Shoulders dropped.

He got out of the car, walked slowly to the boy, and said "Hello, Boy. At times like this, there's not much you can say." He put a hand on his son's shoulder, and sat down next to him, both of them looking at the sea.

Bart said with a choked sob, "Skinner screwed me over!"

Homer would have probably said something along the lines of "I bet that submarine isn't so good anyway", but He and his boy both knew it was complete and utter crap.

The submarine was bloody awesome. That was why they had to limit the number of the students going there.

So instead he decided to go the scenic route and tell a tale. A personal experience if you will.

"Really?" he said, "let me tell you, Principals are always like that, Jerks who screw over the common student. Have I ever told you about the time I ran for School president?"

Bart stopped sobbing, and looked at him curiously, "you ran for school president? When?"

Homer laughed, remembering one of his worst moments fondly, "I was a senior. It was a joke a few of the preps in our school had" Bart interrupted, "What's a prep?"

Homer ruffled Bart's hair, "You'll find out when you reach High school. Now, as I was saying, two of the rich, popular guys decided to nominate me to go as president against a smart Nerd." He chuckled, "we all knew it was probably a prank. They planned on making me the president, then humiliating me afterwards, saying how I was an loser. Our principal, some guy who's name I don't really remember, heard the Preppies talk about their 'masterplan', so he hid the basket somewhere, and told everyone my opponent had won."

Bart blinked, "so, what's the problem? How did he screw you over?"

Then he groaned, "what he didn't give a damn about was that we already knew this. We ALREADY knew that the preppies were planning on ruining me after I'd won"

He shook his head, "we were planning on screwing _them_ over by the end of it. if it had worked, I would've been the school president, Wouldn't drop out by forgetting to take Calculus, and would probably end up _way_ better than what I am now. Probably in better shape too." he looked at his son, "I know you lost the chance to go on a submarine. Something you probably will never do again, unless you join the navy" he growled, "and don't you _ever_ join the navy" then continued, "but it won't really change anything in the long run. Now you know Skinner can't be trusted, and anything you'll do to him he'll have coming"

Bart took a deep breath, then in the same almost sobbing voice, he said "Dad. I know I've never came to you for help, but I got screwed. is there _anything_ you can do?"

Homer looked at him, smiled, thought _At least this one will get his due_ , and then with an uplifting smile said "As I always say, Don't get mad" he paused, "Get dinner."

Bart's eyes dropped, shoulders down and ready to follow him, then Homer finished the sentence, " _Then_ get even. With Skinner."

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **The Basic Idea behind this chapter came from Trevor The Enchanter (who wanted a story in which Homer was a better father). I tried to write a sequel for my Chapter three (and I might, in which case the credit will go to him.) but This story wouldn't leave my mind, so yeah…**

 **This episode references to an event that happened in S20E10 (precisely the first episode in the new style, one that I couldn't bring myself to watch for a very long time, until one day my Sister Forced me to, A Clockwork Orange style. (She is a devout believer of Classic Simpsons, and was trying to force me not to like it. well, she failed.)**

 **In that episode, Homer finds out about, precisely what I explained, and that if he** _ **had**_ **actually won the election, he would probably have the self-esteem, and a self-responsibility not to choose all the wrong choices, and would probably have a better life.**

 **Of course as it happens, in that reality he** _ **also**_ **happened not to have any children, but I don't think he would find it necessary to say that to a boy on the verge of crying.**

 **Until later,**

 **Davoid, Signing off.**


	20. Life Decisions

One day, you'll learn

One day, you'll finally learn that Your "One True Love" doesn't care about you.

One day you'll learn that with this attitude, with this body, with this set of mind, and with this personality, you'll never get her attention.

This is not that day, and you probably won't think you need to learn this, but eventually, even YOU will have to learn this.

After many many months of trying to win her attention, after many many of your small relationships lost because of her, you'll still chase her. Because She's worth it.

She's worth it, she's smart, she won't take anyone's crap, she never gives up for something she wants, she's almost as lonely as you are.

She's perfect for you.

But even you must know you're not good enough for her.

Most girls (and guys) have a type of person they'd like. almost everyone does. Bart's style is generally _good_ girls she can fool into thinking he's a nice person. That or people who won't take his bullshit. People like his mom or Lisa, basically.

Lisa doesn't have a type, really. She's been attracted to macho guys, bullies, stupid morons, environmental activists, pony trainers, and many many others, but All of them have something in common. Each of them has one trait that Bart (and even more than that her dad) has.

They do say people always fall in love with who they grow up with after all. You always thought it was something gross and stupid, now you know it means about the personality, not the person themselves.

One thing is clear though. Lisa Simpson will never like you more than a friend. Most of the time she won't even think of you as a friend, just some wierdo his stupid brother hangs around with.

You will never get her. Not as long as you actually chase her. You _have_ to give her up. Let her just choose whatever kind of garbage she wants. Choose Ralph wiggum, Nelson Muntz, whoever he wants. Some macho bully of a Marty Stu who is a master actor, as well as a buff guy capable of beating three bullies at once. Some bully who almost killed his brother for an entire month. Some dumbass kid who she can't ever stop making fun of.

You just can't care anymore.

Which is when you go to Moe's bar, like you've seen your dad go when he feels like this. when Mom has left him for the hundredth time and hasn't come home yet.

You jump up, sit on the stool, grab your 'drink' (just sour milk, but you can still pretend), and drop your head in sadness.

"Hey, Mr. Smithers" you ask the older grey haired man staring at his glass of drink with a look of nostalgia, "why do guys do such stupid things when it comes to dames?"

Hey, if your father can't help you, the stranger sitting next to you in a bar can. Probably.

Mr. Smithers smiles a sad smile, drinks from his glass, and says "let me tell you about Dames, kid. I know nothing about them"

He drops his head, and you go _Oh_.

But then he continues, "but as for love? What keeps you going is the thrill of the chase. The _possibility_ that one day you might get what you want." He smiles, then looks at You seriously, eyes sharp and cutting, "even though the reality is, you probably never will"

And you smile, just as he is, while the Barkeeper says something about going after a treasure (and leaves the bar open. Show's how much the place is worth) you already know you have your answer. Just as he does.

Both of you will go back to chasing people who won't ever like you back, and both of you will die trying.

It's that day when Waylon Smithers becomes your first grown up friend. And it's on that day when you finally give up on Lisa.

Let her reach the decisions herself.

and you've never been happier

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **The Events of this episode happen, basically, in the last three minutes of the S27 Episode the Burns cage, where Milhouse is tricked into** _ **not**_ **going to the play, finds out nobody cares, and goes to a bar where our dear Waylon happens to be as well, where they have a strikingly familiar conversation.**

 **What was strange for me was how Waylon knew of Milhouse (seeing as, unlike Bart, Milhouse has never had any interaction with him Or Mr. Burns whatsoever) so I changed a few words in the dialogues.**

 **Also alluded to are the other various Boyfriends of Lisa Simpson (and the Girlfriends of Bart, of course)**

 **What I said was, while not particularly accurate in real life, completely true in the Simpsons universe.**

 **EVERY SINGLE girl Bart has fallen for was either a naïve goody-two-shoes Like Marge, falling for his charms (the main example for that is Jenny), or a girl who wouldn't take his bullshit (like Nikki, Mary Spuckler, Laura, etc. etc.) like Lisa is.**

 **And EVERY SINGLE boy Lisa has fallen for has had one of the key traits of Bart's personality. Either voluntary dimness, or viciousness and mischief-making, or the other examples.**

 **Sorry for the rather Short chapter (It was my first one from Milhouse's POV in this series, and also my ever first story in 3** **rd** **person. I might do some more Milhouse Centric chapters later, about his Friendship with Bart, and his own homelife.)**

 **More Chapters coming on (and with the New Season being released soon enough, I expect I'll have more Ideas in the future.) but I'll still listen to all suggestions (I am getting tired of writing this in the bottom of every chapter. You know the drill, if you want to give a suggestion give one, by Review or PM)**

 **Davoid, Signing off.**


	21. Life with Itchy

"Argh!" Scratchy screamed, and began running mindlessly as the moon started falling out of the sky, towards his house.

He ran to his bathroom, opened it, ran inside and closed it. _REALLY? you are a Dumbass._

Then, he took a breath. Scratchy closed his eyes,

And Then _BOOOOOOOM_!

* * *

"Good job everyone!" said the director, as the studio's grunts began picking apart the scene. One of them picked up the water balloon they'd pretended to be moon, and another one picked up the pieces of Scratchy's house, now destroyed. "Take a break, we'll do Burning down the Mouse next!"

Batu, now walking out of the debris of Scratchy's previous home, straightened his tie, and smiled. This was one of the _few_ , truly few, episodes that had Scratchy doing the killings instead of dying in pain and agony for merely existing.

He smiled, and walked out of the stage, "Great job, Una!" he waved at the blue-and-gray mouse, and walked towards his best friend, who happened to walk towards the bar.

Una sighed, "what's the point? This violent killer act has gone for too long" he shuddered, "how long can the show go on, if it's only plot is a mouse killing a cat?"

Bato looked at him, "believe me, I've been asking myself the same questions the twenty-eight years. It's all we've been doing, ever since 'Life with Bato' ended abruptly" and then, each of them sat on their stools, his glass of _Manhattan_ in his hand, "I'm getting tired of this shindig, Bato. I don't _want_ to be remembered as the sadistic, psychopathic mouse. I don't want that to by my legacy" Bato snorted, "Do you think _I_ want to be known as the stupid cat who always gets killed? The dimwit who always trusts said sadistic mouse?" he shook his head, gulping down the scotch in his hands in one go, "We don't have any other choice, Bato. There's not many shows with a mouse and a cat friendly with each other"

Una looked at him, "do you remember tom? Sylvester? Pete?" he chuckled, "They are friends with their mouse counterparts. Tom and Jerry don't even fight that much anymore, Sylvester's last fight with Speedy was back when I was _Steamboat Itchy_." Bato completed the sentence, "and Mickey doesn't even fight anyway. Pete is one of his best friends, both in the show and out. Yes, I know, Una. I know, but our case is different. We're in a different layer of the reality than them. Our plots are different, our Characters not even _close_ to theirs. Can you imagine Itchy having a dog? Or giving Cheese to the poor mice of the world?"

He snorted, "if anything, he'd take the cheese from them and boil them afterwards."

"Can you even _imagine_ Itchy living with a smaller mouse? Or asking Scratchy for help?" he shook his head, "no, Una. We are of a different breed. We are the Generation of Violence. We are-"

A voice from out of the bar said "All Actors assemble in Stage Five; the filming of the next episode starts in fifteen minutes"

Both of them took a deep sigh, got off their stools, and walked to the stage.

Their personal Problems mattered none, there was a movie to be filmed, and the Show must go on.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **Once more, sorry for the short chapter (My shortest yet, I believe)**

 **This is the second time I'm writing Scratchy and Itchy as actual people (The first time was in AO3, in a story that is now deleted, because I didn't think It'd go anywhere…), and the first time ever writing them as** _ **actors**_ **acting the story.**

 **Not something new, I know (There are a lot of stories with a plot like this in Looney Tunes, Tom and Jerry and other Fandoms. I have even seen a story with this plot on this site too) but I couldn't resist.**

 **Also, the first episode of the Twenty-Eightth season was released yesterday. I haven't watched it yet, I will comment on it as soon as I do.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading**

 **Davoid, Signing off.**


	22. the System Works

[one-shot about that starts about Bart's Cheating in YOLO]

* * *

The System was perfect. It was _flawless_ , trusting the kids to work these things between themselves.

It wasn't like any of these dimwits knew how to loop around a law, just bullying, teasing, and pranking mindlessly. And that was the ones who had the brain power to actually do anything other than sitting on their seats like drones.

The synopsis was easy, trust students not to _cheat_ the system, because the basic idea was that cheating would be working for the system. And in its simplicity, it worked.

Lisa smiled as she walked towards the locker room, opened her backpack, and frowned.

This wasn't her backpack. A slingshot, a _voodoo_ doll, a baseball? Nope, this wasn't her backpack.

As she put out the dynamite, she said "Ugh, I got _Bart's_ bag!" then, he noticed the exam sheets.

100% in Math? A+ on History? 100% in Book report, spelling, and Latin?

That was impossible. Bart didn't even _take_ Latin, for god's sake.

Goddammit, _Bart was Cheating!_

She gasped, as she told herself, " _OOOH! Is Bart Cheating?"_

Bart chuckled from the behind, "are the pope's tweets infallible?"

 _Oh god, not again_ she thought, _he's cheating!_

"Bart! I'm gonna Tell!" she said, acting as indignant as any other time someone was cheating, but Bart was nonplussed,

"No, you're not" With a wide smirk, he said "Because If you tell people I cheated, that means your _system_ failed!"

 _He found a LOOPHOLE?_ She groaned, "Oh my god! You found a loophole! Why don't you put this much inventiveness into your _work_?"

Bart was still nonplussed, "because Then I'd be the one thing I swore I Wouldn't" he pointed at her, " _you_ " and left, whistling tunelessly as he went.

* * *

 _Oh my god!_ She thought to herself, _he found a loophole!_

 _Why can't he just let me have something_ once _, not ruining it?_ She walked over in the Library (or, as the rest of the school called it, Lisa's lair), _It's always like this. he's never let me have something! not even once!_

Then, she had a brilliant idea.

She chased after him, finally finding him in the schoolyard, _"Aha!_ " she said, as he took a step back, startled.

* * *

Bart shrieked, startled at Lisa's apparent madness.

"you've presented me with quite a conundrum. A word you should know, since it was on a vocabulary test you _aced_!" she laughed manically, "but after some thought, all my worries went away!" she tore a little of her hair, blowing it away.

Bart thought _not really a good sign…Oh dear_.

"I know the answer!" Lisa continued in the same manic tone, "I'm gonna force you to tell yourself in!"

Bart Chuckled, amused. "good luck with that! The only thing that'll change my mind is a sign from god himself!"

Then, he noticed a shadow beneath him was starting to get bigger.

He looked above, a fatso was flapping some purple wings on his back, falling down.

He cried in shock, then Jumped away, the fat man falling down without a sound.

The Man groaned, "son. It was so _beautiful! I went faster than the speed of sound!_ "

An increasing noise of a man yelling "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" started filling the air, before a loud THUD.

"Well, Bart! Is that enough of a sign for you?" Said Lisa, still her eye ticking.

Bart rolled his eyes, "Would you say yes if it were you?" looking at her sister in the eyes.

Lisa frowned. Then, in a matter of seconds, her face grew red in anger, almost fuming, she grabbed him by his ear, dragging him to a more private place of the school, Bart moaning "Ow, my ear!" all the way.

* * *

She let go of his ear when they were finally alone, "Ow, Lisa! What the-"

But Lisa was having none of it, not this time.

"No, shut up!" she yelled at him, "I've had enough of this!" she slammed him to the wall, her strength increasing with her anger.

"if you _want_ to ruin your life by cheating, I am not gonna _care_ anymore" she told him, "I am not going to care anymore about what's going to happen to you after school. I won't care if you end up in a gutter, or as a dishwasher, or mobster, or in frontline Infantry, or _any other thing_. I don't care about _you_ anymore. It's your future, you're free to ruin it all you want" she looked at him straight in the eyes, "but, if you ruin _my_ efforts with your attempts, so help me god I'll make sure your next eight years in the Simpson house are a living _hell_ "

She let go of his shirt, and then told him "so here's what going to happen. You are going to turn yourself in, tell them you cheated, and accept your punishment. And then, you're gonna be like _every other kid in the school_. your days of ruining _my_ life are over!"

Bart, eyes a bit wide in fear and anger, said "and if I refuse?"

"I just said. Your next eight years in the Simpson house will be a living hell, until _I_ leave the house, because you sure as hell won't end up _anywhere_! So _mark my words,_ you either stop this childish actions right here, or You'll get your due for everything you've done to me all these years."

Bart looked her straight in the eyes, and said "If I didn't give _Nelson_ a valentine card after he threatened me, I am not going to give in to the demands of an _eight-year-old_ bully without any threatening physical thing to speak of. Threatening me won't work, at worst I'll just leave like I did the last time someone went over the line. and insulting me like you are will _not_ make me want to do what you say" he spat on the ground, "You can do your best, but just _hope_ I won't retaliate, because believe me, now that a war has been declared," he turned back, opening the door to leave, pausing just to complete his sentence "Whatever you would do to me, I can do something three times worse than that, with half the effort, and _none of the guilt_."

* * *

Lisa looked at the door that her brother had left from a few minutes ago. Lisa stared at the door, fists clenched and scowl complete on her face.

 _That stupid little-_ she thought, _always ruining my-_ she blinked.

Bart had been too serious today. And he'd called her bully.

He was wrong. _Retaliation_ against antagonism was not bullying. It was just _fighting_ back.

And considering the _many_ times he'd ruined everything for him, the times he'd destroyed her toys, her saxophones, her books, and humiliated her, _fight back_ she would.

Fight back she would alright.

* * *

 **A.N: I would maintain that Bart is not the good guy in this story.**

 **There is an** _ **other**_ **side to the fact Bart is always in Lisa's shadow. The** _ **other**_ **side is that Bart uses** _ **everything**_ **in his arsenal to ruin Lisa's life. Now, he never takes it too far (unlike some other person I could mention with electric torture), but the fact remains that normally, Bart is not really a good brother to Lisa.**

 **He bullies her (Well, not "give me your lunch money!" bullying, mostly by humiliation and teasing and destroying of property), and well, Lisa almost never strikes back. Or never did until season 20, at which point Bart didn't even bully her anymore (and mostly it was just Lisa torturing Bart for no reason). of course there _is_ the fact that when she strikes back, she becomes horrible. a more horrible person than Bart could ever be (Case in point, On a Clear Day, I can't See my Sister)**

 **I chose this episode (YOLO) as my basic setting, for the mere reason that I found it extremely out-of-character for Bart to give up after Homer fell on him. (And I also found it extremely out of Character for him to survive a crash faster than the speed of sound.)**

* * *

 **Also, As I watched The Premiere of the Twenty-Eighth Season on September 27** **th** **(I don't know When I'm publishing this, so…) I'll say what I thought of the episode. The Couch gag was long (had a few funny moments in it, but still** _ **way**_ **too long), the actual plot was interesting. Bart had literally three sentences in the entire episode. Welp, there are many Bart-centric Episodes this season so I'll think nothing of it, after all it wasn't like he could** _ **advance**_ **the plot in any way by what he would say (unless they were going to make some cracks about him being burns' heir, or something like that)**

 **But the episode was nothing special. Some good moments, a few minutes of** _ **humanizing**_ **Mr. Burns (Something that's happened two or three times most,** _ **Rosebud**_ **and** _ **Dark Knight Court**_ **being the only two that I have in mind), but nothing worthy of rewatching later. I'd give it 5/10 (And I don't give anything lower than 5/10, except maybe for episodes like** _ **Lisa goes Gaga**_ **(Which the whole fanbase agrees was horrible))**

 **Okay, rant over. I'll do a review like this for every episode that I watch (and, considering the fact I'll lose my schedule somewhere in the line, some chapters might have more than one review on them, while some chapters might have none)**

* * *

 **NOTE 2: As of today, I'll update this fic twice a week. once every Friday (two days before the new episode is released) and once every Tuesday (when I see the episode)**

 **the Tuesday Chapters will include the episode reviews, and the Friday Chapters won't.**

 **If I can't update twice a week, the update schedule is one update every Friday. hopefully it won't come to that.**

* * *

 **Davoid, Signing off**


	23. Weekend at Moe's

**A.N: This is a Direct Sequel to CHAPTER 3 (Birthday Party Rocus) and happens right after Homer leaves Home for Moe's.**

* * *

 _Previously on Life Goes On:_

" _what's it gonna be, Homah?" said Moe, who had felt he wasn't going to be a fun drunk tonight._

" _give me a six-pack, Moe. I need a lot of beer for forgetting tonight."_

[linebreak]

Homer sits on his normal stool, staring at the mug full of the yellow drink. The yellow, blinking, inviting, _seductious_ drink, whispering in his ear to just drink it. Homer's glare hardens, he clenches his teeth, but raises the mug anyway.

One more, down the hatch.

This drink is truly the reason for his _failings._ As a father, as a husband, as a friend. As a _human._ This drink, this yellow, fattening, family-breaker of a drink, even though it doesn't have that much alcohol in it, is the very reason his life is a ruin. Well, at least it's the most important reason. There are a lot of different reasons, but this one is one he can _change_.

One more, down the hatch.

This drink is what always holds him back. What stops him from going to his daughter's concerts, his son's matches. Why he can't remember the last time he's been on a friendly, father-son outing with his only son.

This drink is what's ruining him. This drink, this place, this town, this life.

One more, down the Hatch.

But this time, he doesn't get that far. A hand grabs his firmly, stopping it from making the mug reach his mouth.

"Huh?" Homer raises his head from the dirty bar. The grip is so firm he can't even move his hand. He turns his head towards the body connected to the hand.

A green wooly Shirt, and a moustache like Stalin's. An overbearing, ever-forgiving smile.

He knows that guy. It's his neighbor, Ned Flanders.

Homer sighs. "Whatever it is, Flanders, I'm not in the mood for it. now, let go of my hand"

Ned says "No can do, Homer, not until you put down the mug" with the same smile.

"Alright. I promise!" he says unenthusiastically, but that seems to be enough for Ned, he lets go of the arm.

Homer chuckles "Sucker!" and brings the mug up to his mouth. But then looks at it again.

He can't.

He sighs, he puts the drink down, and puts his hands on the bar. "Dammit. How did you do that?"

Ned keeps smiling, and Homer looks at him for once.

The smile is, for once, superficial.

It's not a real smile. Not even a real Flanders-smile. He's merely Smiling to stay in-character.

He can relate to that. It's nothing new to him. he used to care about his family. Once, he'd gotten offended when he saw how his family was _a disgrace_. When he saw how all the other families were all better than his. He used to shout, to growl. To protest. That side of his doesn't come to light that often anymore. Only when Bart's being a Jackass.

Now, he just smiles. Laughs, jokes. Now he just bears it, hides it all inside.

He knows that look after all.

That look is one of a man in _need_ of a drink. One that can't bring himself to get one.

He knows what he should do.

"Moe, a mug of Beer for Stupid Flanders!" he exclaims, "On my tab!" about time _he_ gives something to the poor man, after taking so much from him.

"You nevah pay fo' yah drinks, Homah!" says Moe in his normal tone. He doesn't care, just glares at Moe, and he understands.

"Now Homer, I must refuse-" says Ned, but he interrupts, "Shut up, Flanders. You're here. Even if you were an alcoholic, you wouldn't come to a dump like this" he says, "You need a drink. Just as much as I do"

Like always, Ned ignores the insults, takes them all, and turns the other cheek. Like always, Ned doesn't protest. He merely sits down, and looks at the mug of beer in front of him.

"You drink it, Flanders" Homer continues, condescendingly pretending to bring a mug to his lips. Ned rolls his eyes, but still does so.

"Now, why are you here, Ned?" he says. Now that Ned's drunk, there's no need for him to play in character. He can always put it on one of them being drunk. "Why are you in this bar?"

"I just… I just miss Maude" Flanders sighs. "I know it's wrong to question the Lord's plan, but I have to diddly-ask. Why did it have to be Maude? Why did it have to be Her?" he shakes his head, "Have I done something wrong? Am _I_ being punished for a Sin?"

Homer snorts. "Cheer Up, Ned. You're more of a sinless saint that some of the prophets in your book." He shakes his head, "You're a better person than any of us in this town deserve."

Ned says "Now, Homer. Don't be a-" "Please. If this were Bible, I'd say you're like Lot in Sodom" he stops, "you're the only one in this town that _didn't_ deserve something like that. It's normal to feel…angry"

Ned shakes his head, "Actually, I wasn't here for that. I can-diddly-deal with that On my own. I came here to see if You were OK."

Homer drops his head, "I take it you saw the-" "Yes, I did, Homer. And heard too" he raises his hands in surrender, "not that I wanted to, but your window happened to be open and-"

Homer didn't really pay attention to that. "What am I gonna do, Ned? I _want_ to be a better man, but I _really_ don't know how." He sighed, "I don't want to be my dad anymore. I don't want to be-" he blinks. "I don't want to be Homer Simpson anymore!"

Ned shakes his head, "Don't worry, Homer. It happens to everyone. Every religion has a diddly-word for it, and all of them say it's possible for _anyone_. You can always change your ways"

"But…but how?" he says, "How do I change ten years of…of neglect and abuse? How do I change from a lazy fatso into…" he sighs, "goddammit! Into a _Ned Flanders_?"

Ned however, doesn't seem to be smug, like any other person would, if anything he's looking humbled. He says "well, Homer. That's easy!" he points at the bar, "the solution is in your hands!"

Homer looks at the mug in his hands, "beer?"

"Exactly! Not drinking it!"

* * *

The actual process takes longer than just putting the mug down, leaving the tavern, and never returning. The _Actual_ process is much, much longer. In the end, Homer doesn't become a Flanders II either, but goddammit, he changes. And as far as he's concerned, for the better.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **Yeah. The original Chapter I was gonna write wasn't going to have Flanders in it. it was Homer crying over his bad life, and getting over it. but Flanders is just…too good a character not to be included.**

 **Now, I know that Flanders has been the first victim of the phenomenon the professional Critics call "Flanderization", but even with all his flanderizations, Flanders is a better character (A better man, per se) that the entire populous of Springfield. so, I thought what the heck? Why can't HE be the light that guides homer?**

 **(And yes. Flanders is not really Sinless, but compared to someone like Homer or IDK Mr. Burns, he might as well be)**

 **Until Later,**

 **Davoid Signing off.**


	24. Bob and Bart

**[A.N: extremely AU story based on Bob and Bart's interactions throughout the series. More about that in the AN in the bottom]**

* * *

 **They met first when he was eight.**

Bob was already a man at the height of his career. He finally had the show in control, the infernal clown put away behind bars. His methods might not have been a good one, but there was nothing personal with what he's done. Krusty the Klown is a threat, a threat to all Springfield's children, and whatever's happened to him, he had it coming.

He still likes to think that he's a better showman than the clown. He could hold his audience without occasionally bringing extreme physical violence to a poor person who happens to be a sideshow. He had his jokes, sophisticated jokes, but still understandable by the children. And better yet, he had more segments in his show that just a stupid laugh, a grossly violent cartoon, and grossly overrated physical gags like throwing a person out of a canon.

He almost had no problem those days. The only nuisance for him was when the channel producers asked him about what to do with Krusty. Other than that, his days hadn't been this relaxing ever since he got the job. His body hadn't been this unbruised for a long time.

But then he met the children. They weren't like other children. They appeared different, and visibly different, what with their weirdly-fashioned hair being the same color as their skin.

They were there to talk about something. what, he didn't know then.

Maybe it was his arrogance, the fame of finally being a star hitting his head, but for some reason, he decided to just give them a ticket each for the show, condescendingly letting them come with him.

When he started the show, the two girls still looked happy. As happy as the others in the town. But the boy? Bart? That boy was sad.

He didn't know it then, but the little boy had a hero worship for Krusty stronger than what he had for his own father.

"What's your name, young man?" he asked from the boy, walking through the audience to reach him.

"Bart Simpson, Sir" replied the boy. He beamed with pride, not showing it of course. It was the first time a kid called him, the lowly sideshow, 'sir'.

"well, perhaps we can shed some light on your problem in a new segment exploring preadolescent turmoil! I call it 'Choices'!"

The boy answered "I don't think so, Sir"

Understandable. Children can be shy sometimes. The hair was funny, but Bob's speech pattern always intimidated children. That was why he wasn't allowed to speak, after all.

With a shove from his sister, the Boy, Bart, was led with him to the stage.

And that ended up being his demise.

The boy proved to be more competent in detective work than Springfield's Finest.

He was led out to jail in shame, with the children boo-ing at him.

Even then, he could accept it. it was just a little boy, trying to save his hero.

* * *

 **When they met again, Bob had been released from Jail.**

The next time they met, it was at the beginning of Bob's failed new career as a Black Widower.

He had 'met' Selma in the prison, via prison pen-pal letters, and at first he replied just to be polite.

But then, he heard from his cellmate, Jailbird (as they called him then. The 'Snake' name came later) about this intriguing thing.

"So, Bob. What's that in your hands?" had asked Jailbird one day, lying on the top bunk but asking him curiously.

"This, my criminally-ungifted friend, is a letter…from S. B" he had answered,

"A chick? Awesome, dude! So, what're you going to do about her?"

"I will do nothing, My friend! I don't know whether to even write to her or not"

Jailbird jumped down, "Are you kidding? Of course you should write to her!" he exclaimed, "You're getting released soon enough, but what'll you do afterwards?"

Bob frowned, "I don't have an idea. Probably just get in the entertainment business again-" "after _that_ stunt? Unlikely! You'll be penniless when you're released!"

"So, what do you suggest?" "Go black Widow. This chick, she'll probably have some money to her name, right? you can be sure she'll trust you! anyone lonely enough to go to a _prison pen-pal_ program is sure to be naïve. After that? It's just a matter of an untimely explosion!"

 _Hmmmm_ …

And that was how he 'fell in love' with Selma Bouvier.

What he _hadn't_ counted on was that Selma was the sister of that boy's mother.

And, as per usual, the small miscount in his planning proved to be his undoing. He just hadn't expected the boy to _find out his entire plan_ from seeing him hit a busboy for giving them the wrong room.

He doubted the police force could even comprehend what the boy explained later, what with _them_ being the ones who caused the explosion that entrapped him after all.

* * *

 **The boy was twelve when he hit his first psychotic breakdown**

The foiling of two consecutive plans by a simpleton, a little boy who couldn't get any more than a C from his teacher, was humiliating for Bob.

The very fact that he, Robert Underdunk Terwilliger couldn't perform any criminal plan was insulting by itself, but the fact a _ten-year-old_ boy had foiled them was even worse.

Bob would never admit to it, but he, like the rest of his family, suffered from a severe case of Hubris. A fatal pride, that would cause him to go bonkers when it was hurt. And hurt it was.

So, soon afterwards, when he was released again, after two years, (thanks to the perfect judicial system of the city), it was a vengeful Bob who sent threatening letters to the Boy, often by his own blood, threatening to kill him by gruesome methods only read in a Lovecraftian book.

* * *

 **The boy was thirteen when he ran for mayor**

It was a perfect plan, a Machiavellian piece of art worthy of only the best master manipulators. If only he hadn't been so prideful that he couldn't let the stupid Birch Barlow get the fall for it.

When the Girl decided to use a technique famous for being used in _cartoons_ , his pride had to be hurt enough for him to reply as bad as he could.

"you know, Sideshow Bob" started the girl, as she drank the glass of water on the table, "I believe you when you say you're innocent"

Bob smiled, "indeed I am"

"Because we _all_ know you're a naïve pawn, _puppet_ if you will, of the most diabolical political genius Springfield has ever known" she banged her fist on the table, pointing at Mr. Barlow, "Birchebald T. Barlow!"

The courtroom was filled with gasps, as Bob thought _that fatso? As if!_

"You don't have the _intelligence_ to rig an election by yourself, do you?" she asked, already knowing what he'd answer.

The Boy, Bart, just added in, to further fuel the fire, "you were just Barlow's Lackey!"

"You were _Ronny_ to his Nancy!" "Sonny to his Cherri!" "Ringo to his rest of the Beatles!"

If there was one thing Bob hated, it was to be called a Sidekick. _That_ time had passed. They wanted him to answer, he would! And answer he did.

He rose, "ENOUGH! LIES! Lies, lies! I did it! I did it all!" the crowd gasped again, "There! What is it you want, you smarmy little bastards?"

Bart said "We want answers!"

"You want answers?"

Bart continued "I think we're entitled to some!"

Bob asked "You want answers?"

Lisa said "WE want the Truth!"

And bob answered "You can't _handle_ the truth! No truth-handler you, Bah! I deride your truth-handling abilities!"

And in true Supervillain-in-the-penultimate-act fashion, he began explaining it all.

"But why?" asked the Judge, for once interrupting the flow.

"because you need me, Springfield! son, your guilty conscience may force you to vote democrat, but deep down, you know that you long for a cold-hearted republican to lower taxes, deal with the criminals, and rule you like a king!"

Which, in retrospect, was not the right thing to say.

* * *

 **It was two more years when Bob planned to kill Bart again**

This time, it's out of true, utter feeling of injustice. The Clown had deleted all of the earlier shows he had. Most of which Bob was in too.

In fact, he was trying to erase all evidence of there ever being a person named Sideshow Bob on the show.

He surely couldn't be blamed for planning to kill him. and couldn't be blamed for using the boy as a kamikaze drone to kill the clown with. Probably along with everyone else in the auditorium.

* * *

 **Bart was actually sixteen when Bob tried his hand on genetic manipulation**

And in the end, when he was standing by the dam _he'd help build,_ holding a bully in a headlock, almost ready to kill him [ **sorry, I don't think I could actually write 'as he held a bully's head in his mouth' without cracking up** ], The Girl said " _Bob!_ Would you look at yourself!"

"huh?"

"To quote Whitman, 'This is what you shalt do! Love the earth and sun and animals, despise riches, stand up for the stupid and crazy!'"

The _boring_ yet personal favorite quote made him just let the bully get away, and say in a dismayed voice "who am I kidding, my only exit, is a final one!"

He stood ready to jump to his death, and said "farewell, Simpsons. And _Lisa_ , when you're older, write an autobiographical novel, trashing the rest of them!" and dive he did.

Fortunately having implanted gills, he didn't drown, and the pressure somehow didn't kill him.

And swam away. Only to be caught by the police as soon as he got out of the water.

* * *

 **And Bart was Twenty-Five when Bob saw him last.**

He was in the library, working there at last, when someone entered the library. The sound of a door being opened and then closed shut was clear in the otherwise silent building. Probably some cretin thinking this was a good place to hide from a friend, or make out with a partner.

Bob closed his eyes, still working on the books, when the footsteps stopped directly behind him and a man said "can't a patron get some service?"

He turned, and he saw him.

Every other time they'd met, the conversation would start with " _ARGH! SIDESHOW BOB!_ "

This time, when he saw the young, athletic man with an angry look in his eyes, and a cocky smirk on his face, when he saw the knife in his right hand and his left hand made into a fist, it was he who screamed " _ARGH! BART SIMPSON!_ "

The end.

* * *

 **A.N:**

* * *

 **REVIEW TIME!**

 **Yet another Meh episode from Season 28, Bravo FOX!**

 **The Plot of 'Friends and Family' is, like the episode before it, better than most they've come up with this last four seasons, The** _ **Result**_ **of 'Friends and Family' is, once again like the episode before it, nothing special.**

 **It's not horrible, per se, but it's boring, it has no emotional moments, no moving scenes, nothing you'd expect from an episode that is basically 'Bart after Dark' without Bart.**

 **The 'Homer Alone' scene is not good, as I'm sure many of you have thought (and have said, after watching the episode or the previews). It's just a stupid Montage of Homer eating and drinking, without** _ **any dialog**_ **at all! Like, no wisecracks? No 'Who's wearing Short Shorts!'? just Homer eating and drinking? Bah!**

 **The actual plot of the story, The Simpsons playing house for Mr. Burns, is not bad. It's in-character for the Simpsons as they are now. (And Bart is awesome in it. well, the few moments that he** _ **did**_ **appear in.) but it's basically irrelevant to the story, only being a** _ **reason**_ **for Homer to meet Julie (Who, apparently, has lived next door for** _ **years**_ **. Really?)**

 **And the finale of the episode is horrible. I didn't think there would** _ **ever**_ **come a marriage crisis scene where I'd side with HOMER of all people. Clearly, I was wrong.**

 **In conclusion, While the episode had many bad things, and few things that didn't** _ **bore**_ **me, I'd say most of the jokes were funny, especially "Why are you getting mad at those eggs? They didn't do anything" the last scene, (where Everyone's using the glasses), Maggie's talking (Which, while a bit stupid, make sense to me. I mean, Maggie not talking because of Homer's last words in 'Lisa's First Word' is a pretty famous Head-canon in the Fandom), and the Coach gag.**

 **So, with generosity, C. and that's just because of the Jokes.**

 **Hopefully the next episode will not be worse than this one.**

* * *

 **A) seriously, WTF! Why is Bob always paroled? I mean, he's tried to frame a famous celebrity for theft, has attempted murder at least three times (on adults), has threatened the city with a nuking, has rigged a mayoral election, and has actively tried to Kill Bart every time he's seen him.**

 **If anything, he should be in jail for life.**

 **Also, he's a creep. (seriously, tell me he isn't. I dare you)**

 **In another note, Was I the only one who was surprised with how Bart Solved the crime in 'Black Widower'? (Really, if he's that smart, shouldn't he have become a detective in the future?)**

 **I might do a spin-off of this chapter later, write what happened when Bob and Bart met the last time… but that won't be for at least three more chapters.**

 **Credits where it's due:**

 **The courtroom scene is a direct parody of the scene in 'A Few Good Men', something that's used in the Theater too often.**

 **alright, please be merciful, this was literally my first time writing Sideshow Bob.**

 **Also, warning: the next chapter (which will be uploaded this Saturday) will most indubitably have** _ **extreme**_ **bashing of someone I'm sure you lot can guess the identity of. It will be the last** _ **completely**_ **bashing piece I'll write, at least until this story reaches a 40-chapter milestone,**

 **but it will be** _ **extreme,**_ **merciless, shameless** **bashing of a character in an AU setting. You have been warned, if you don't want to read something like that, merely ignore my next chapter, named 'Freedom After Speech', some of the events of which has been foreshadowed in this chapter…**

 **that's all for now!**

 **Davoid, signing off**


	25. Freedom After Speech

**[AN: WARNING: MASSIVE AND SHAMELESS BASHING OF a FUTURE, AU-VERSE VERSION OF LISA SIMPSON.**

 **LOSE ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE!** ]

* * *

Even weeks after the deed was done, she wouldn't notice any consequences from it.

She knew doing it was a risk, she knew doing it was a true violation of their trust, she knew doing it was something she'd sworn never to do again. but these minor details didn't stop her when, after her run as the president of the United States was over, after she was finally out of the office and back to a semi-normal life, after she was finally with a family of herself, she finally bit the bullet and did what she had to. What she'd _sworn_ to.

She wrote the book. This was going to be the best day of her life!

* * *

"hi Mom!" she said as she stood near the row of seats that hosted her extended family. Well, the part of it that she would want to talk to. She stood there impatiently, waiting for her Mother to open way for them to walk in and take their seats. Three seats, between Bart (where Milhouse normally sat), and Maggie (where Zia normally sat), in the middle of the row, so nobody would particularly notice the Buddhist and the Atheist who were sitting in the church, minding their own business (in Zia's case, Blogging about how she hated religion, anyway).

She stood there impatiently, but Mom didn't even spare a glance at her, stubbornly looking at the Reverent who was reading a most boring passage. She didn't groan, she didn't spare one word. She just looked at the front. Not ignoring her, per se, more like not even care that a person named Lisa Simpson was standing next to her.

"Mom?" she said again, a little louder. A few people from the other rows shushed her, " _Hey!_ " " _Be Quiet!_ " to which she smiled embarrassedly and waved with a muffled " _Sorry_ "

But still to no avail. Zia shrugged and said "I'm gonna go sit somewhere else" and she did.

Milhouse did too, in the end. His Mom and Dad had a seat left for him.

But Lisa? She never got a seat that day. It took her thirteen minutes to actually understand that, and finally she just took a seat in the back of the church, where none would care about her.

* * *

A few hours after the embarrassing Church-time was over, Lisa was in for a shock. For almost the first time since they'd married, Milhouse told her he was going out for a beer. "Hey, Honey" he'd said, "I'm going out for a drink with a few of my old friends. I might not be home 'til late at night. Love you" and before Lisa could actually complete the process required to think what he'd said through, he had worn his jacket and left the house, the door banging at his leave.

Lisa blinked, but decided the lack of Milhouse (and Zia. The girl was 'online' as per usual) was a good chance for her to think of what'd happened that day.

At first, she thought none of it. Mom was probably angry at something Dad'd done. Well, it wasn't like Dad never did something wrong (quite the opposite, in fact. Dad always did something to screw the marriage, not caring about mom, belittling her emotions, sometimes outright condescending attitude towards her. Dad was not a good spouse, not a good spouse indeed! **[1]** )

Yes. That must be it. she was probably too angry at Dad's latest stupid scheme that she didn't want to talk to her lest she unwantedly curses her for something she hasn't done.

That was why she put it into the farthest depths of her mind, not to think of it again.

Well. until Milhouse returned, late after midnight.

Zia was finally sleeping, and she was in their bedroom, working on an article on her Laptop, when she heard the door being opened, and someone trying to sneak through the house to their room.

Huh. either a _very bad thief_ ¸ or someone who had the key.

And only three people had the key to the house. Bart, Maggie, and Milhouse (seeing as it was his house too, it would be quite tactless if she hadn't given him a key)

Maggie wasn't even in town, out there on a national tour for her Band, and Bart he doubted would be assed to even walk all the way to here.

When the door to their room opened, Milhouse walked in, and abruptly said "crap", her thought was proven to be correct.

"Milhouse." She said, not turning her head from the computer's screen, "welcome home"

Milhouse said "thanks", as he went to the other side of the room.

Lisa wouldn't know for sure, but from the sound of it, he was most likely changing. "How was your day?"

He let a long suffering sigh, "I think Bart's mad at you. Well, madder than usual"

She raised an eyebrow, "really? Why do you think that?"

"well, he didn't say anything definite, but, well…"

* * *

 **Flashback**

"I'm mad at Lisa." said Bart, waiting the bartender to bring their drinks, "and I need you to calm me down"

Milhouse, who hadn't even sat yet, said "that's what you called me all the way here for? So you could just say 'I'm Mad at Lisa'?" he put his hat on the table, and sat in front of Bart, "You're _always_ mad at her for one reason or another"

He sighed, and said "no. this isn't just 'why's she more successful than me' mad. This is serious"

Milhouse sighed, "you know, _I_ live with that woman every day of my life, why is it that you're the one who's angry at her for some reason every other day." He nodded at the waitress who brought them their drinks.

Bart snorted as he drank the neat scotch in one go, "You're an exception when it comes to Lisa, Milhouse. You're almost never mad at her. But enough about you, I need you to calm me down before I go to her house and tear her a new one"

Milhouse said "then I ask the million-dollar question. What has she done now?"

Bart said "Have you ever gone to the bookstore lately?"

"No"

"Well, I happened to. I was on my way to Barney's house for…reasons" he looked sideways, "when I see the bookstore…"

 **Flashback Over**

* * *

"I think It might have something to do with this" Milhouse brought out a book out of his bag, and dropped it on the table.

"Not now, Milhouse, I'm busy with-" she spared an accidental glance at the book, "-something?"

 _Capturing The Simpsons,  
The Autobiography of Lisa M. Simpson._

She gulped, and closed her eyes for a few seconds, _why did I publish that again_? she asked herself. _Oh, right. A dead man's last request._

Apparently that was on Milhouse's mind too. "why did you publish that?" he asked, sitting on the bed, looking curious, "I won't ask 'how could you', because I don't think I want to know the answer, but why would be a better question."

Lisa, finally stopped using her computer, "I-…I don't-"

"no seriously, tell me one thing, _what_ were you thinking when you published that?" asked Milhouse incredulously "that they'd be _grateful_? _Flattered_?"

Lisa said "No! of course I didn't think that! I just wanted to have an _honest_ narration of how my _childhood_ was!" Milhouse rolled his eyes, "oh, please. There's _honesty,_ and then there's this:"

He opened the book to a random page, and started reading:

" _from outside, the Simpson house was a normal one. A normal upper lower-class family with a working father and a homemaker mother, three children living their lives. If you were from Springfield, you'd know it was nothing of the sort._

 _Most of that could be narrowed down to one reason, My Older Brother. Bart, someone who you probably don't know if you're not from Springfield (or have had the misfortune of getting on his way when he was a child), was a menace. Not only he knew no boundaries, obeyed no law, and had no empathy, but also he wasn't the smartest tool in a box. He was a master manipulator, I'll give him that, but more than that he was your regular Action movie villain, if said Villain was a dumb hyperactive kid with a great mind for ruining others' lives. The number of times I myself suffered from his pranks, jealousy and pettiness are more than I'm proud to count."_

He looked at her, "funny thing, you forgot to mention he dropped the prankster persona by the time he was fifteen. But hey, this doesn't even measure to the other stuff you've said:"

" _Everyday Life was never mundane in the House of Simpson. on a normal day, you could expect my dimwitted older brother to be about, escaping the wrath of my Father. Theirs was a stormy relationship, either_ too _friendly, which would lead to them scamming the city with juvenile scamming techniques, or wrecking terrible vengeance upon someone that they'd deemed guilty (which, also, included juvenile scamming techniques, included but not limited to framing someone for the death of their mother.) when the two of them were friendly, I'd know there would be_ someone _in the city, not sleeping tonight._ "

Then, he chuckled, "Oh, lookie here," he flapped the book to another page, "this is even better!":

" _I remember the only way to the true, high culture, in our lives was one Bob Terwilliger. The Esteemed reader may be more familiar to his stage name, "Sideshow Bob"._

 _Old Robert, may god bless his soul, was someone we'd meet quite a lot. You see, He was another victim of my Brother's Juvenile Pranking, but unlike most, he wouldn't stand for it, and had far many times attempted to take revenge upon him. often in gruesome methods. Correct me if I'm wrong, but in most these cases, Bob was the eventual Victim, bullied by the corrupt city officials and ridiculed by the fact a boy who was, in all truth and honesty, a dimwitted fan of_ Krusty the Klown _. I for one didn't, and haven't, considered him the antagonist, or a villain. Just a misunderstood man who my Brother always got in the way of_ "

Lisa gulped, but still said "I stand by my words. Bob was almost _never_ the bad guy in any of those situations!"

"He tried to kill your _brother_ , Lisa. Your own Brother, who you bashed in almost _every_ page of that book. Is this all because he made you legalize cannabis? Are you really _that_ petty?"

Lisa narrowed her eyes. "Wait, let me guess. That's why he was so mad? Because I wrote something that _didn't lie_ and show him in the good light?"

Milhouse said incredulously "He's mad because you made it seem like it was _his_ fault a forty-year old _Creep_ wanted him dead for so long! He's mad at you because you actually _protected_ the man who was prepared to burn your brother alive merely because he was such a moron a ten-year-old thwarted his masterplans more than ten times!"

Lisa narrowed his eyes, "so what'd he want me to do? Write it in a way that made people think _Bob_ was the loser? I'm not doing that in something I did as the _last request_ of said man. What, he's mad I didn't _praise_ him?"

"That's what I asked too, at first. I thought the same, and _believe me_ I wouldn't think any less of him had he said yes. But then he said 'That's the least of my problems with this book, Milhouse. Have you ever read this?'. And after reading it, I have to agree with him." he opened the book, "Bart and Homer aren't the only people you bashed. The only one in your family safe was _Maggie_ and that was because you left home before she could actually gain her personality. She's been mentioned once, in the front page, ' _To Maggie, the only one in my family worth mentioning._ ', and that's it!" he took a deep breath, "You didn't spare _anyone._ not me, not nelson, not Ralph, Janey, Jessica, Allison, The twins, Ling, your aunts, not even your mom! Now, I can forgive you shit-talking _me._ anything you wrote about the ten-year-old version of me was true. A bit mean-worded, but still no trace of lies in it. I _was_ a bit Stalker-ish back in those days, but your _Mom_?"

Lisa frowned, "I didn't say anything about my mom"

Milhouse said "Oh really. You have an entire Chapter dedicated to her! Here, let me read it!":

" _And now, Esteemed reader, I have told you what I believed of many from my Childhood days. I've told you of my 'friends', my Enemies, my crushes, people I knew back then. I've told you about my good-for-nothing Brother, and my deadbeat dad. But before I leave the dark times of my Childhood, there's someone I have had yet to talk about. was someone I maybe should have Started with._

 _Marge Bouvier-Simpson. My Mother._

 _She has always been my Role model."_

Lisa chortled, "wait, how's that a bad thing?"

Milhouse threw the book at her way, "Read it. Read what you wrote loud. Don't worry, Zia's sleeping, you can ignore the censoring"

Lisa rolled her eyes, "Alright, Alright. here goes…" and continued the text from where Milhouse's stopped:

" _Role model, in the manner that She was a role model of what I was_ not _to do. The Woman never had dreams, not even small ones like buying something new, or getting her friends together on a party. The Woman never even_ dared _talk back to the monster who abused us for so many years, never dared stop the monster who_ overshone _me on every turn, and never dared even complain about the state our lives were in. Marge Simpson was, in a word, spineless. A few months into my Eighth year in this world, all she'd do was moan whenever someone did something Stupid, but go along her way in either case._

 _The Woman never knew what to say when she talked with me. she never knew when to stop the others when they were being stupid, and she never knew what happened in her own house. She was basically in denial all the way through._

 _My mother taught me not to get pregnant out of wedlock, for it would lead nowhere but someone like_ Homer _. My mother taught me not to marry the first one who came to my way. To think the way through when deciding on my life-partner._

 _She taught me never to be willing to remain an uneducated, illiterate homemaker, to_ definitely _continue my education after High school to College, to definitely get a job. And to_ absolutely, _in no case, marry someone who couldn't possibly ever_ HAVE _a future._

 _I have the most from my Mom to thank, so_ Thank You, _Mom! Thank you for teaching me what not to do, by making all the mistakes one woman could ever make in this century_!"

Lisa blinked. Then thought _Okay, so she MAY be possibly angry about this instead of at my Dad…_ then said "well, was I wrong?"

"Ignoring the fact you basically called your dad an 'Abusive monster', even though you were his favorite kid," Milhouse closed his eyes shut. He took a deep breath, and said "apparently, I can't explain how this to you. you don't seem to find the difference between _the untruthful_ thing to do and the _Stupid_ thing to do. This, Ms. Simpson, was a case of the second. A very _big_ case of the second."

He said that, and then went to the bed, going to sleep about immediately.

Lisa didn't join him for quite a few more hours, though.

She had some things to think about.

* * *

The law was, of course, clearly on her side in this matter. She had the right to freedom of Speech, and she had all the powers to write a book. If someone didn't _want_ it be written, well _boo-freaking-hoo_ for them.

But even still, Milhouse was right, she decided three days later, on a day off from Work.

Milhouse was right, 'Twas an exception to the rule, but still not impossible to believe. Her wording in that book _may_ have been a tad bit angrier than what was presumed acceptable.

Now, she wasn't _regretful_ of what she'd wrote. Someone needed to say it, after all. Everyone _needed_ to know her _FAMILY_ hadn't done anything to turn her into what she was today. She wasn't regretful of writing the Biography, merely regretful that her family hadn't accepted it as well as she thought they would.

Which meant she had to go talk to them. Make sure they knew it didn't mean anything, that she was still on talking terms with any of them, and had forgiven them anyway. She _needed_ them to know she was OK with being an unnoticed, overlooked, underpraised, scapegoat of a second child, and there was no need for them to apologize. After all, she'd ended up pretty well, even if she said so herself. **[2]**

It was with that mindset that she knocked on the doors of her childhood home, somewhere she once envisioned to have a billboard saying 'Childhood Home of Lisa Simpson'.

When she finally parked her car in the outdoor parking spot (that once was used for Homer's car, until they lost it), she noticed there was sound coming from out of the house.

The sounds of two Children playing in glee, one of them yelling " _HEY! Aunt Maggie! Kirk Cheated! You Cheater!_ " and the other replying in the same tone Bart would once answer her with " _I know you are, but what am I?"_

Lisa blinked. _I thought Maggie was supposed to be on a tour_ …

She shrugged. she was Probably just wrong. It wasn't like she was in touch with Maggie after all.

she walked out the car, knocking on the door, straightened her dress, put on her best, _friendliest_ smile (one she'd normally used for especially angry foreign diplomats, back on her time in the Oval Office) and stood, waiting for the door to open.

" _Just a minute, I'll be right here!_ " came the voice of Marge Bouvier-Simpson from inside the house, with the background tones of her Dad, brother, and someone she couldn't notice laughing at something.

Mom opened the door, mindlessly saying "Hello, Ma'am! welcome to the Simpson-" she raised her head to see her daughter. Looked her in the eyes, while hers hardened, and then closed the door.

Or tried to, Lisa had her foot block the door from being closed. "Mom, I want to talk"

Marge said "I have no wish to talk to you, Ma'am. I suggest you leave if that's all you're here for"

Her eyes widened, _is she throwing me out of the house?_ And said "Are you-are you throwing me out of the house?"

Marge, in a tone unusual for her (with too many Big words, and a serious tone), "No, Ma'am. just rescinding your welcome in _my_ house. You're not welcome here, if you do not have any business with any of this house's occupants, kindly leave"

 _Since when does she_ \- Lisa stopped this train of thought, "Mom, I wanna talk to you"

With her eyes still as hard as before, Marge Simpson said "With all due respect, the feeling is not mutual. Do kindly leave my property, lest I be forced to call the authorities"

Giving up on trying to convince mom to just open up enough for her to talk, she said "then can I talk to my older brother, your firstborn son, _Bart_ Simpson and the people related to _Him_?"

Marge said "you are not allowed entry no further than where you stand. Wait, and I shall inform _My_ family your frankly _preposterous_ demand, and return to you their reply."

And closed the door abruptly.

All the noises from the house stopped immediately. At least Mom had told Bart she wanted to talk to them. Hopefully they would be more welcoming of her than Mom herself was.

A few minutes later, marge opened the door. "My family has accepted your demands. Follow me, say your piece, and leave immediately. You're not welcome in my house any longer, Lisa Simpson"

Lisa followed the closest woman in her life, who was now acting like a total stranger towards her, and went to the living room.

The room was full to a brim. Maggie was there, and so was Bart (and his family). Kirk and Picard were sitting down, Maggie, Bart, Homer and Mary sitting with them, all of them around a board game. If its shape, and money in front of them was any sign, it was monopoly. _She hadn't played that game for twenty-five years!_

Marge was standing next to them, "well, Simpsons. Ms. Simpson seems to want to talk to you. is there anything you'd like to tell her?"

None of them did.

Homer was looking at her with his normal look, half mindless and half hungry, but in his eyes shone something she hadn't seen for a long time. something that was normally reserved to when Mr. Burns called him to his office.

He was sad, and she was disappointed. He had accepted it, and was deciding to just go on with his life, not caring about it.

Maggie wasn't even looking at her, and fortunately, whatever Lies the Adults had fed the children about her, they hadn't worked (because Kirk and Picard looked as uninterested of her as they would on any given day)

Mary was, quite predictably, sneering at her (not to say she wasn't sneering back). Mary she'd never approved of. Of _all_ the women he could marry, Bart _Had_ to take that uneducated, messy, sass-mouthed spawn of Cletus. He couldn't marry someone like Jenda, his school prom date, Jenny, or any of the other girls he'd ever fell for. He _had_ to marry her, and it was just her luck that both of them happened to love each other unconditionally, now that Bart had decided to straighten his act and go get a real job.

Mary was one woman she would never be friendly with, so her sneer didn't hurt.

But Bart's did. It shouldn't have, okay? She shouldn't have reacted to Bart's anger, but she had.

His anger should have been meaningless. It's not like her description of him wasn't spot on. It's not like his _anger_ would mean something given how he'd treated her all those days. his Anger should have meant nothing for Lisa, the same way his pride wouldn't mean anything.

But confound it all, she wasn't a machine. She couldn't control her inner emotions at will, and deep down, Lisa -Like any other person, really- craved approval.

And it was plain to see. Her family did _not_ approve of what she'd wrote.

About fifteen minutes, they were staring at each other, the kids having left the living room for their Father's childhood room, without even muttering a single word.

Then Bart said "since _nobody_ wants to say anything, I'll start."

"just _what_ were you thinking, Lisa, when you wrote this thing?" He said, "Didn't you promise never to do anything like this again?" he continued, "after that stupid 'documentary' you made from our family, you promised you'd never do something like that again. if you'd remade that documentary, it'd hurt, but _how_ is this any better than that?"

Lisa frowned, "isn't it?"

"You've basically shown us as irredeemable monsters, Lis'. You showed us as complete, total bad guys. I'll admit, back then there were a lot of stuff that I did, as well as the rest of us, that we're not proud of. but none of us deserved _that_."

Lisa scoffed, "please. _Everything_ I wrote about you guys was truth, absolute truth, and nothing but truth! Dad is an abusive glutton of a drunkard who worked as the _safety inspector_ of a nuclear plant without even finishing high-school! Mom is a spineless coward who stood aside while _Dad_ strangled you and belittled me, sometimes even _participating_ in the belittling parts! And you? _you, Bart Simpson?_ you are nothing but a bully! A bully who had nothing better to do than to ruin his own life and screw up the lives of everyone around himself! A menace who caused more property damage than any criminal in the city!"

"that's us when you were _eight!_ None of us were like that by the time I was fifteen! You don't see me telling everyone what kind of a person _you_ were back when you were eight, do you?"

Lisa scoffed again, "and what kind of a person _was_ I back when I was eight? You couldn't _find_ anything to say that was wrong with me"

Bart's jaw almost hit the floor, Mary and Maggie almost the same, But the one who replied to that was neither of them. It was Marge Simpson, who for once was done with enduring Lisa's opinions, who voiced the opinion of the house.

"so you want criticism, eh?" She said in a most frosty tone, finally dropping the posh attitude, "I'll tell you _exactly_ what everyone thinks about you. what _I_ should have told you a very long time ago:

"You, Lisa Simpson, are an obnoxious, selfish, arrogant, self-serving, brat. You flaunt your supposedly superior intellect at everyone you meet, you ridicule, make fun of, and belittle anyone who doesn't believe in the same things you do, and bully them into submission whenever someone calls you out for your crap. You are the definition of _fun-killer_ , even worse than me on my worst days. you don't know the definition of _just punishment_ , you lack apathy, and you're the most ungrateful person I've ever seen" She shook her head, "when you decided you were just going to call all non-vegetarians 'Meat-eating Scum', I said nothing. When you decided to call every average Christian a moron for believing in Angels, I said nothing. When you decided to call the members of almost a _half_ of the American political system corrupt land-owners, inbred cretins, or evil supervillains, I _still_ said nothing. when you decided you were better than us on the basis of good grades and knowing music, I still said nothing. when you made a documentary movie, showing us in one of our admittedly worse days, I was disappointed, but I still said nothing. but even _MY_ patience has its limits." She showed her the book, "and now, when you decided to write this one-sided, opinionated, biased 'autobiography' of yourself, I've had enough!"

After wholly and completely roasting Lisa all by herself, Marge stopped, and the group waited for Lisa to answer.

Lisa couldn't really talk after all that.

That criticism hurt. It was painful to hear all those things about herself, for sure, but the most painful part was the one giving it. It wasn't Homer, Bart or Mary saying that. It was her own _mother_. Someone she thought would always be on _her_ side.

Now that she _was_ thinking about it, she had worded her book too harshly. Did it actually have _anything_ to put the other Simpsons in a good light?

She already knew the answer. It did not. It was _supposed_ not to, because the most important reason she'd wrote that was to say she had turned into what she was _all by herself_ , and had had no support from her family whatsoever.

Well, she was wrong, wasn't she?  
If Homer had strangled _her_ any time she said 'lousy meat-eating scum', would she be any better than what Bart used to be back then? If Marge and Homer hadn't supported wholeheartedly whenever she'd gone on a crusade against something, would she still have the same sense of believing in her cause as she had now? If Bart hadn't helped her in the cases she couldn't do alone (yes, he was normally used as menial labor, be that as it may he had helped), would she still have the same sense of adventure as she had right now?

Lisa blinked. A week ago, she'd definitely say yes. Now? Now she wasn't sure anymore. Which probably answered her second question.

She dropped her head, not willing to reply on what she'd said.

She didn't know it yet, but she looked like she was about to cry. Like any other person would, if that much Bashing was dumped on them all at once.

And with That, her mom finally stopped being angry with her. Say what you want about Marge, but if she'd forgiven _Homer_ that many times after he'd been _Homer_ , she could Forgive Lisa for being Lisa. Remaining angry wasn't something she was known for. Neither was keeping a grudge.

And seeing her daughter actually on the verge of crying simply overcame her feeling of anger at the face of what she'd seen.

Homer said "That hurt, didn't it?"

Lisa nodded quietly, not dignifying that with a vocal response.

"Well, think what that would feel like if we'd gagged you and brought you to public, _then_ said all these things to you, without letting you defend yourself" homer Continued, "because _that's_ exactly how I felt after Carl and Lenny stopped talking to me because I had, and I quote, 'blamed your own daughter for wanting to help some poor Brazilian in need'"

At that point, Lisa broke down. Writing the bashing autobiography was the worst thing she could have done. Well apart from not letting his family enter the last rocket leaving earth, but thank god _that_ would never come to happen. The day she wrote that book was definitely the worst day of life her life!

At that point, Lisa realized that she was actually sorry. She felt regret for writing that. Not just because she'd been roasted (and had a small dose of what they'd probably felt when they read her book) or just because her family didn't seem to be happy about it.

Because while the Freedom of Speech was on her side, the freedom _after_ speech wasn't. everything had its consequences, and her lack of tact had, once more, shown it to her. Shown the _same_ consequences to the _same_ action, twice.

Once bitten, Twice shy.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **(Early Update. I won't be able to Upload Tomorrow...)**

 **VERY LONG AN! BE WARNED!**

 **[1]: Hopefully, you do realize what I meant by noting those** _ **particular**_ **faults.**

 **[2]: The things on her Mind as she's walking towards 742 Evergreen Terrace seem quite weird, even a bit** _ **arrogant**_ **. Do they not? Well, Sir (or madam), this is the Mindset the Producers and the Writers of the show seem to have while writing her these days. that she can do whatsoever she wants, and won't be punished for anything, because she is Lisa Simpson. the episode "How Lisa got her Marge Back" is the only episode these last five seasons in which Lisa actually understands she's done something wrong (and even in that, the show seems to side with Lisa anyway.)**

 **I** _ **dare**_ **you to find an episode this last five season in which LISA has been shown in a bad light by the writers, or has been blamed for something she's done.**

 **1) Alluded to is the Documentary, made by Lisa Simpson, in the Episode "Given Any Sundance", which was met, by me at least, with quite a shock when she got away with it that easily.**

 **Another case of Lisa not getting punished for anything these days, I suppose.**

 **2) The Episode was basically based on a sentence said by Sideshow Bob in the Episode "The Man who grew too much", wherein Lisa grows a friendly relationship with Bob, and is asked to write something Bashful about the rest of her family, before Bob plunges to his apparent Demise (if you have seen the episode, you'd know why I said "Apparent") the fact that Sideshow Bob and the Simpson Family haven't interacted in canon ever since means I can use this to my favor while writing this chapter.**

 **Everything I wrote in her book was actually true. Well, almost everything. Not the unbiased truth, but not a lie (or some stupid thing for me to use so I could bash the poor girl) either. All of those things are stuff that Lisa would actually believe, and are actually true (everyone has bad traits, The Simpsons have** _ **many**_ **) (as she has expressed all of them in many episodes, though not as meanly worded as what you just read). All of them, except for the stuff about Sideshow Bob.**

 **Now, the reason Bob is shown in a good light in Lisa's book is simply that Bob was, as far as Lisa knew, dead, and to her this was his** _ **Last request**_ **. Let's say she wrote the book somewhere waaaaaaaaaaay after HoFP and HoFF. (well, in this Story's version of it, not the canon version.)**

 **3) Also, the basic idea behind this chapter, aside from what I said above, came from Lolathe jazz re, who asked for a story in which Bart had a good future instead of Lisa. Seeing as I could really not see any reality in which** _ **Lisa**_ **wouldn't get a successful life in her future, I decided to change Bart's Spouse to someone who wasn't Jenda (and therefore wouldn't leave him for some reason), which ended up being Mary Spuckler, and find a way for the Simpsons to hate on Lisa. Which was when I rewatched the episode I mentioned above… This isn't exactly what she** _ **asked for,**_ **therefore I may write another story some time later. Though that time won't be in the near future.**

 **4) As you can see, being called something along the lines of 'the dumbass who stays home cooking for us', for the umpteenth time by the same person she's raising and giving everything for, wasn't really something Marge was happy about… and being bashed for being a good mother? Sorry, if she could do what she did to Bart after he was caught shoplifting** _ **once**_ **, she is capable of doing that to Lisa after something as bad as this. especially now that she doesn't even live with them anymore.**

 **5) Now, I know this chapter was EXTREMELY, SHAMELESSLY bashful towards Lisa, but I'm not going to just start Bashing Lisa every chapter again, I swear it. this single bashing chapter is enough for me not to even** _ **bring**_ **Bart and Lisa in the same sentence for at least ten chapters (Joking, Joking)  
The Next chapters may include bashing, but not that of Lisa. The next chapters will most likely not even be centered on her at all, and she may only have an aiding role in them (as opposed to here, where she was a primary character, and the main POV)**

 **resting from one of my longest rants and Chapters, and ducking in case the tomatoes start flying, I'll have to inform you that This story marks the ending of the First Stack of stories in Life Goes On.**

 **The next chapter, the 26** **th** **story, (II 1) will be uploaded on FFnet (and other sites) as soon as I complete the 6** **th** **story in the stack (As I write this, I've completed 4 stories, and am working on a 5** **th** **)**

 **I can say, I don't know whether those stories will be any better in Quality than these ones (Hopefully they will, but You should be the judge of that), but the plots are probably more creative than '[insert character here] is mad at [insert situation/character here]". If, per chance, I haven't written a 6** **th** **chapter for my Second Stack until October 15, I will upload the first chapter on that date (If nothing unexpected happens).**

 **Until Then,**

 **Davoid Signing off.**


	26. Stack Two: Clown in the Dumps

[ **EXTREMELY AU. READ AHEAD AND YOU'LL UNDERSTAND!** ]

* * *

"and that will be all for todays, Kids! Huhuhahaha!" the clown laughed once more, his hands dramatically raised to make the kids even giddier, and then the curtain fell.

Another normal day for Krusty the clown.

Behind it, Krusty the clown walked to the make-up room, cleared all the make-up on his face, changed into a comfy Jean and T-shirt, got into his car, and drove away from the Studio.

And fifteen minutes later, Homer Simpson, father of three and known alcoholic parked the car, and walked upstairs.

His son and daughter were too busy watching TV to greet him, but that was normal.

His son was laughing at one of Krusty's jokes on TV, and his Daughter was trying to be a mature kid, and not laugh.

He shook his head in fond exasperation and climbed up the stairs, went to his bedroom, where his loving wife was just where he'd left her this morning, in front of a bottle of wine, with a half-full glass in her hand, and a dreamy expression on her face.

"hey, Marge" he said, grumbling but not arguing with her, and sat next to her, picking a glass and filling it.

Marge hiccupped once, but then said "How was work today, honey?"

"Horrible. I don't think I can take this much longer." He sighed, taking a gulp, draining the glass, "This job is even _more_ depressing than the work in the plant"

Marge rolled her eyes, "Oh _Homer_ , I already told you I was sorry about that. I'm sorry I showed up drunk to tell you you'd forgotten your lunch. What more do you want me to do?"

"I didn't mean it like that, Marge." he said, as he changed into his pajamas, "This job is _depressing_ , ok?"

"Working as a clown is depressing?"

"it sure is, honey. You make others laugh, not being amused yourself is a proven side-effect" He chuckled bitterly, "but I wasn't talking about that"

"then what were you talking about, Homer?"

He narrowed his eyes, "let me show you this first-hand" and then raised his voice.

" _Bart!_ "

Nothing happened.

"BART!"

Once more, nothing happened, then he said "I believe I'll have proven my point if this doesn't work the third time either"

" _BART!_ "

From down there, they heard a sound like Lisa's mutter "Jumbo's calling you, Bart. I think you should answer him"

And then the boy yelled " _What!_ " back.

Homer looked at marge in the eye, and yelled "GET YOUR SISTER AND COME HERE!"

It took three more minutes, and two hostile looking pre-teens walked up to their doorstep, one of them almost already having a sneer on his face.

"What do you want, Homer?" he said, "It's the prime time, Krusty's next show's coming right up, and we can't miss it!"

He looked at an appalled marge, and said in a tired tone "nothing, son. just go back to watching your TV"

Lisa spared them a curious glance, but joined Bart as he began walking down, mumbling " _lousy fatso making me walk all the way for_ -" all the way

"I think I've made my point, Marge" he said to his wife. "I'm tired of this dual Identity, honey. I can't take this much longer"

He sighed, "I can't take it, my stupid, sadistic, jerk of an alter-ego is my children's hero, while _Homer_ , their father and bread-bringer, is someone they have no respect for. I can't take it!"

And it was hard, Okay? It was hard seeing his children fight over who loved him more, each of them trying to convince the other that they _didn't_ love him. his _own_ children!

He was tired of chasing after Bart because Bart had been unrespectful as per usual, copying his hero with pranks that wouldn't be funny anywhere by on TV. He was tired of dealing with all the hassle in the Simpson House.

He couldn't take this any longer. He was just one man!

"Then this can't go on like has, not anymore!" Marge noticed him, sighed, and said "There's only one thing to do, then"

And said "Kids! Come up! We have something to tell you!"

It was time to come clean.

* * *

 **A.N:**

* * *

 **Okay, first the review:**

 **The Third episode of Season 28 was** _ **AWESOME!**_

 **It wasn't memorable, but it was pretty funny, without being cringe-y. it could be better, but I'm satisfied with the results they came up with(Unlike the last two episodes, I might add!)**

 **And also, after almost** _ **seven**_ **seasons of Bart being a literal sociopath, we finally saw what real Manipulative!Bart looks like. it was almost like his performance (!) in 'The PTA Disbands', simply giving subtle advices and let every chip fall into piece. It was good to see Bart be a manipulator without being a sociopath, for once. Also, Lisa was awesome in this episode, and Maggie finally acted like a baby (I.E trying to eat the ticket and everything)**

 **I give this episode A, the highest score this season ever got from me. I hope the next episode is as good as this one, even better.**

* * *

 **Now that we've got that over, Was this AU enough for you? Homer not being a jerk, but a caring father? Marge being the irresponsible drunk instead of him? Homer not working at the Nuclear plant?**

 **Okay, so you might know this already, but in the original draft, all of that was part of the show.**

 **Back then, Lisa was just a Female Bart (you know what I mean If you've watched the Tracy Ullman show shorts), Maggie was a super genius toddler with a wardrobe full of pacifiers.**

 **Marge was supposed to be this irresponsible drunk who always humiliated Homer, in fact in the earlier drafts of "Simpsons Roasting on open Fire", the pilot episode of the show, Marge was supposed to show up in the plant drunk, and cause for Homer to get fired (which was the real reason why they had no money, and Homer had to go be Santa and etc. etc.)**

 **In the original drafts, the Children didn't respect Homer at all (one of its remnants being the 'you like him best!' scene in "There's no disgrace like home"), for example Lisa would call him Fatso or Jumbo and Bart would not even talk to the guy without sounding outright rude, while they both worshiped Krusty the Klown, who happened to be Homer in disguise.**

 **Now, for some reason FOX decided this plot was too 'complicated' and stuff to show on TV as a cartoon, and we ended up with the Simpsons as they started in Season One.**

 **Case in my point, you can see that Lisa is not as much of Lisa as she later becomes, Marge isn't the actual sane one in the family, Homer is more of an angry guy than a dimwit, Maggie is just there, and Bart is… not as psychopathic as he is now… The Season one was the last ties to the original plot of the show, and Season two was when The Simpsons Really Began.**

 **Okay, another short chapter, but the last two were pretty long, so please gimme a break.**

 **Until later,**

 **Davoid, Signing off!**


	27. The Murder nobody cared about

When they gathered 'round in the City hall that day, everyone had something to say. Old man Monty had angered _every single person_ in the city, and to be honest, this was kinda just the last straw.

His actions had, consecutively, taken away from the Children a good school, destroyed several places of entertainment, and had stolen the oil from a group that deserved it, and needed it the most.

Mayor Quimby, standing behind the stage, said "people, people! Take it easy! We're all upset about Mr. Burns' plan on er, uh block out our sun! it's time for decisive action! I have here a polite but Firm letter to Mr. Burns' underlings, who will, with some cajoling, pass it along to him or give him the gist of it!"

He had the right idea. Maybe in any other situation it would have worked, but the old man had pissed _everyone_ off. The city was on the verge of rioting, and they cared none for the official routes.

After a few minutes, with the people's murmurs getting angrier, more hostile and more frantic, the Mayor continued "also, it has been brought to my attention that a number of you are stroking guns. Therefore, I'll step aside and open up the floor"

He said, sitting on one of the chairs on stage, watching the chaos that would unfold.

At first, a man rose. None of the people could recognize him, as he basically looked like a hermit, his tie loose, his shirt stained and dirty, his face unshaven, and his breath admittedly drunk.

"Mr. Burns was the closest thing I ever had to a friend" at that, they found out it could be none but Waylon Smithers, "but he _fired_ me! and now I spend my days drinking cheap scotch and watching comedy central!"

Then, an immigrant Scotsman with hair like flames rose, and said with a thick Scottish accent "Burns cost me my groundskeepin' job at the school!"

Old man Abe Simpson said "aw causa him, I lost my room, my things, and my body's collection of old sunbathing magazines!"

The local sleazy bartender, Moe Ssylak, said "I lost mah Bar!" and the local town drunk, Barney Gumble, said "I lost his bar!"

The smartest girl in town, Lisa Simpson, said "he robbed the school of music!"

Mr. Skinner, a school principal continued her words "he robbed the school of financial security!"

And the town idiot, Homer rose "he can't remember my _name!_ "

Minute by minute, the accusations were more and more hostile, and the atmosphere was getting rowdier and rowdier. The people were a time bomb, and all they needed was someone to lighten the fuse…

The town menace, Bart Simpson said "look at what he did to my dog!" and pointed at his dog, almost crawling in a wheelchair.

And then, just before the town would riot, the doors of the city hall opened with a loud bang, and a well-dressed old man began chuckling evilly as he walked through it, entering the hall. "that _wheel_ 's squeaking a bit. Perhaps I could sell him a little oil?"

Bart's eyes narrowed, and he growled "you twisted old _bastard!_ ", charging towards the old man, who merely flipped away his coat, showing a pistol in a holster, "uh!"

The boy stopped, eyes wide in fear, and the town rose at once, eyes wide in indignation at the fact the old monster was ready to shoot a boy of ten. No matter how many times _they_ almost wished the same for his stupid pranks.

"I've decided to protect myself! Ever since I was attacked in my own office by an unidentified assailant!"

A muffled _"D'oh!_ " came from one of the seats, but the people all rose, threateningly walking towards the man who was cornered.

A man with a foot, a pipe and a navyman's hat said "Argh! Burns! Your scurvy schemes will earn ye a one-way passage to the boneyard!"

Mr. Flanders, a good-natured man without a single hateful bone in his body (ironic, considering what he believed in anyway), said "hold on, Folks! I'd like to hear from Sideshow Mel!" expecting the upperclassman with a snobby attitude not to wish anyone's death, but Mel didn't disappoint the town when he said " _I'll_ see to it that Mr. Burns suffers the infernal imaginations of _hell's_ grim tyrant!", drawing a switchblade.

Moe said "I'll carve him into pieces"

Lunch-lady Doris said "I'll make him into soup!"

And various people from various places from town said "Yeah!"

"Oh, you talk big, that's for sure!" But Burns wasn't impressed, "But who here has the guts to stop me?"

The town didn't act for a few seconds, murmurs rising as everyone waited for another to start the killing.

"very well," He chuckled, turning around, slowly leaving the building, "one last question: have you ever _seen_ the sunset at Three PM?" he laughed manically, and said "take _one last look_ at the sun, Springfield!"

And with that, a great device began rising out of the Springfield volcano, rising up to the sun, causing a great shadow to fall upon the city, and as the people were gasping in fear, the old man left the building, cackling like a cartoonish supervillain as he left.

* * *

Ms. Simpson, mother of three, was walking towards the parking slots to start the car, as she asked loudly "where _is_ everybody?" when the gun went off.

She turned only to see the old man holding his chest, staggered, dizzily walking as he gasped in pain.

A local hoodlum asked "hey man, are you alright?"

"ugh…won't…ugh…dignify that…ugh…with a response!"

And as the church's bells began ringing, the old man fell on the sundial, finally unconscious.

"Mr. Burns has been shot!" a citizen said, unsympathetically, Marge said "I don't think we'll ever _know_ who did this. _everyone_ in town's a suspect!"

The people began looking at each other suspiciously, until the town doctor chuckled mindlessly, as he was prone to, "well I couldn't possibly solve this mystery," he pointed at the incompetent police chief, Clancy Wiggum, and said "can _you?_ "

The chief said "well, I hope so. It's my job, you know" he said "The investigations will begin shortly"

"didn't you lot just threaten him to death less than half an hour ago?" At that point, the local armed robber, Snake Jailbird said, "who _cares_ why he's dead? This town has covered up much worse stuff!"

Mayor Quimby said "but we have to! Someone's tried to kill that man, when he wakes up he'll-" Snake abruptly drew a pistol, and shot the old man in the head.

"There, _I'm_ the murderer. Take me away, Boys!" he laughed, and then said "and take away that blocking thing, the town needs the sun"

And with the police taking him away (and letting him out about five blocks away, this one time), the people went off their separate ways.

A Murder may have happened, and it was a mystery to be solved, but it could be solved even without the old man there to tell them who it was. They might not have agreed with Snake's methods, but nobody disagreed with the fact the city was better off with Burns Dead.

Nobody would lose from such an event. Not even Waylon Smithers, who was the new owner of the Nuclear Plant.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **Yeah. Abrupt. I know.**

 **But seriously, the city has swept so many things under the rug. I don't think the murder (more like** _ **execution**_ **) of a despised old man like** _ **Burns**_ **would matter to any of them.**

 **I don't think there's** _ **anyone**_ **on this fandom that doesn't know what episode this chapter rips off.**

 **Until later, Davoid Signing off!**


	28. Simpsorama

Their visit to New York was a whacky one. Homer had let his friend the drunkard Drive his car home, and the man, unsurprisingly, drove the car to New York.

How did he drive a car to _New York_ , None of the family ever understood, but Bart knew, after years of living with Homer, that All logic leaves when one gets drunk like Barney does.

So yeah, they ended up traveling to New York on Bus, paid by Bart, so Homer could find his car (and pay for the fines, so they could return)

Obviously, none of the children felt like staying with Dad, waiting for the officer 'Steve' to show up taking care of things, so Bart and Lisa tagged along with Marge, walking around Springfield.

First it was _meh_. They saw some cool stuff, they rode subway, Bart found out he was not as good a conman as he originally thought.

Then they began shop sighting, and soon they were lost.

Mom asked "Are we still in Little Italy?"

Lisa looked around, "Actually, I think we're in Chinatown now" with Mom, in her usual upbeat tone, replying "Only in New York!"

Ten minutes later, after seeing a dead rabbit on the exhibit of a meat shop, Lisa decided this place was too much _Meat-eat-y_ for her, and led them out of it, and to a boutique shop.

Oh dear god. Was Bart glad they almost never went to mall together.

"Look at all those beautiful shoes!" Lisa said, then defensively continued "I _know_ they're made from animals, but _wow!_ "

"Mhmmm" groaned Mom, "If only I didn't already have a pair of shoes"

Bart groaned as he paced the sidewalk near them. _I can't take this any longer!_

"Speaking of shoes," he said, when they didn't come out of the trance for another ten minutes, "I don't care about shoes! I'll meet you ladies back here in half an hour!"

The ladies in question didn't even nod, "Okay dad!" "stay where I can see ya, Honey!"

Ten steps away from them, on the other side of the road, Bart saw a sign that intrigued him.

" _Whoa!"_ he said, reading the sign near the tall skyscraper, "Mad magazine!"

The place didn't meet his expectations, "Lis'n kid, you probably think lotsa crazy stuff goes on in there, but this is just a place of biz'ness!"

"oh. I see" Bart dropped his head, and then continued, "Then, could I ask a favor instead?"

"Name it"

"Can I make a call?"

The woman behind the desk shrugged, "Sure. Why not?" she handed him the phone.

"What's the closest Pizza place here?" he asked, and the woman told him the number.

"Hello? Is this Panucci's Pizza?" he asked, a grown man with a weird accent said "yeah, what's it to ya?"

"I wanted to order your most expensive Pizza, along with a six-pack of Beer to the Address 405 W.D"

"Alright, It'll be there in a jiffy, who am I putting the order for?"

Bart thought for a second, "Mr. Winner, I. C Winner"

"Got it, goodbye"

And then, the woman behind the desk said "hey, you sackloada-" but Bart was already out of the building, cackling as he left. He was back with the ladies, and they were going to watch a musical now.

* * *

"Space, it seems to go on and on forever. But then you get to the end, and the gorilla starts throwin' Barrels at you!" Fry said dramatically, but then one of the barrels hit his rocket in-game, and he dropped his head, "and _that's_ how you play the game!"

The Blonde kid near him looked at the score. "not even two digits? You _stink,_ Loser!"

"Yo, Fry!" Now, Mr. Panucci, Fry's Boss, called him, "Pizza goin' out, C'mon!"

Fry looked at the plain looking Pizza and the six-pack of Beer in his hands, and sighed deeply.

By the time Fry had reached the address, he'd finally found a mantra that worked for him. "I hate my life! I hate my life! I hate my life!" he stopped by the tall building, locked his bike to one of the bike parking slots, and walked inside, ignoring the cheery "Happy new year!" a bike-thief sent his way.

 _64 levels?_ Fry Thought, as he was going up in the elevator. _Whoever lives there ought to be rich! Maybe I can overprice the pizza a little…_ until he saw the sign behind the door.

"Applied Cryogenics, no power failure since 1997" he read, but then opened the door.

Lo and behold, it was a place of frozen pods. That, and a desk in the middle of the building.

He went to one of the pods, and cleared the cold glass, seeing a man with his eyes wide open, _huh. nobody lives here?_

"hello!" he called out loud, "Pizza delivery for" he scrambled around, looking for the piece of paper, "Icy Wiener?"

"argh! Crud!" He groaned, "I always thought by this point in my life, _I'd_ be the one making the crank calls!"

He shrugged, and then decided if nobody was going to get the pizza, he could have it, and then say some thief snatched his wallet while he was returning.

He opened a can of beer, sat on a chair, leaning back and raising it for a toast, "Here's to another _lousy_ millennium!"

10

9

8

7

6

5

4

3

2

1

"Happy new year!" he called to himself sarcastically, and then his chair fell back. And he fell right into an open pod that _happened_ to be open right behind him.

For a moment, he thought _Really_?

Then he thought nothing, for his body had shut down.

* * *

 **AN:**

* * *

 **Review First:**

 **So, The Latest THOH episode (also the 600** **th** **episode) is a stepback from The Town.**

 **It had a lot of funny moments, I'll admit, but it was also pretty much plotless.**

 **I mean, the first section is supposed to be a parody of "Hunger Games", but its only similarity to the famed series is the dystopia, and the first plot, the game. But then it suddenly they revolt, save the kids, destroy the reservoir and then there's a nuclear winter? Like, WTF? (this section gets a** _ **C**_ **)**

 **The second section is, IMO, the strongest section. It had a good plot, but then again it was basically a slasher movie, with almost everyone who has ever talked to Lisa dying in different, bloody ways. (kudos to the death of the psychiatrist, like 'Think of me as your best friend', and then boom)  
Bart's Help in freeing lisa from the prison was pretty funny too. (This section gets a **_**B+**_ **)**

 **Then Third section is pretty much where** _ **The Simpsons**_ **Bart leaves and** _ **Family Guy**_ **Stewie enters.  
Moe had a few good fourth-wall breaking jokes, and the last scene with Bart suddenly becoming a killing machine was pretty funny, if a bit cringy. (I give this section a straight **_**B**_ **)**

 **Also, correct me if I'm wrong, but this episode basically had the most number of gruesome murders in the show, and while none of the sections were as disgusting (and I mean that as a good thing. A horror show sometimes** _ **has**_ **to be disgusting) as that section in THOH V (that section where the teachers eat the students and everything), it was basically a good horror-comedy episode.**

 **Still, it didn't deserve all the hype it got. I'll give this episode a B, and that's waaaay generous.**

* * *

 **The idea behind this story comes from a question I saw in one of the Threads of No Homers Club, I don't remember the actual Quote, but the gist of it was:**

" **What if, in the events of TCoNY v. HS, Bart made a crank call to a pizza parlor for a cryogenics lab?"**

 **I'm sure you can understand the reference to that.**

 **Many scenes in this chapter are based on, or ripped off of the Pilot episode of Futurama and the Simpsons Episode: 'The City of New York V. Homer Simpson'**

 **Note that, if you haven't watched Futurama yet, do so. It's great!**

 **Now, until next time,**

 **Davoid, Signing off!**


	29. The Final Act

**A.N: Warning, AU, Twisted Bart. Not Canon, or connected to any of my other stories! You have been warned!**

* * *

 **Previously on Life Goes On:**

 _ **And Bart was Twenty-five when Bob saw him last.**_

 _He was in the library, working there at last, when someone entered the library. The sound of a door being opened and then closed shut was clear in the otherwise silent building. Probably some cretin thinking this was a good place to hide from a friend, or make out with a partner._

 _Bob closed his eyes, still working on the books, when the footsteps stopped directly behind him and a man said "can't a patron get some service?"_

* * *

"So, Can't a patron get some service?" said the man from behind him. Bob winced, and turned "how can I-" he turned only to see him.

"Hello, Bob"

Bob froze.

Then, screamed "Arrghhhhh! _Bart Simpson!_ " as he jumped back. But he forgot the bookshelves behind him. his back collided with the hard books, and he winced.

Bart stood in front of him with an amused smirk on his face. "So _that's_ how I looked like, all those years ago" he said to himself with a mock look of wonder on his face.

The boy with unruly hair the same color as his skin. Time had fared him well, no longer had he the fat belly his childhood form used to, his fat turned into muscle, the man in front of him had no similarities to the boy other than the hair. The man in front of him didn't wear the shorts and T-shirt, he no longer had the easygoing look of mischief on his face.

The look on his face was the sign of nothing but the hardened look of a cruel sadistic man.

"You really thought I wouldn't find you? what, you thought I was the same dumb kid who'd fell for your trap out of _guilt_?" he took a step forward, making Bob take a step back. "You thought I was too stupid to notice the new librarian in my area was such a snob nobody even went to the place anymore?" his fingers danced on the bookshelves, dropping the books one by one as he crept towards Bob. "You thought I would be fooled? After _all_ the times your plans fell to me?"

Bob growled, " _I_ suggest you leave this place immediately!", tone calmed in white anger, hands clenched into fists.

Bart simply laughed as he walked towards him, Bob now hitting the wall.

"Sure. That _might_ have worked when you were the big, scary adult and I was the ten-year-old idiot who couldn't solve the easiest problems" he said, and Bob finally noticed that he was, for the first time in the many times the two had faced each other, shorter than the Simpson boy. Shorter, and not even close in strength.

For the first time, Bob was the one in fear. Not yet shaking, but still terrified.

"you always used big words, Bob." Said Bart as he crept closer and closer, "Such big, complicated, sophisticated words. I always wondered how none of your plans ever worked, how you _always_ failed at everything" he picked a book from nearby, the _Republic_ of Plato, and looked at it. "Then I finally realized why you were the worst mastermind ever. It was because you were not smart nor cunning. In fact," walked five more steps, saying one word as he took the step, "Words were All you had!" finally stopping in front of him, eyes cold as the snow outside.

Bob had seen terrifying men before, but never like this. Never was he this fearful just by words alone, but fortunately, he was stronger than what Bart had thought.

If he was going down, he'd give as good as he'd get.

He lunged at the muscle-bound man, planning to knock him down, but then, Bart struck with his hand. The book, _The Republic_ , hit Bob and he span, before falling, grabbing the nearby shelve to stop his fall.

"Why are you here?" he asked as he spat one of his teeth and a lot of blood.

"To end this, Bob. to do what you tried to do thirteen years ago. to end _you_." he said, a drawn switchblade falling from his sleeve into his hand, one that he pointed at the former Criminal.

Like any other man, the threat of a knife destroyed all logic in bob's mind. He got up to his feet, and began running, escaping further into the library.

Bart laughed mercilessly, "running towards the back of the maze, instead of the obvious front door" he shook his head, but continued to walk towards the man, who now dropped a bookshelf on his way, hoping to block his way.

Bob yelled " _Why_? Why do you torment me so?" as he ran. Sadly, he was poorly out of shape these days, for after not even a half hour of running, he was already panting. Bart had caught up with him. "What problem do you have with me?"

"oh, I don't know!" Bart, in the same tone as before, one highly amused with a hidden tone of cruelty in it, answered, "maybe it's all those times I had to watch my every move." He punched Bob in the gut, "All those times I was the only one who _saw_ you for what you were!" a punch to the chest, "all those times I was just a second short of death, and had to return from that, only to have it happen to me all over again!" Bart grabbed Bob's shoulder, and slammed him to the wall, his other hand formed into a fist, aimed for his face. "maybe it's because you tried to do the same and worse to me, more times than I care to remember, before I was even a teen!" his aim was true.

Bob saw red, and heard a _CRUNCH_ , before noticing the man had broken his nose, and before the pain settled in.

"or _maybe_ it's because, for once, I am stronger!" he said, and then pulled back his fist for another punch.

Bob spat some more blood, and then said "but what next? What about when they find me?"

Bart said "what? do you think you'll be in a state to _tell_ them whodunit?" he laughed, "Now, I'm going to take some advice that was given to _you_ by Lenny, and kill you without much of a delay"

his fist met the man's face again, and again, and again. by the time Bart had stopped, most probably because his fist was exhausted from all the punching, Bob's vision was already dimming.

"And as for _after_ it?" he pulled his badge out. "Meet Bart Simpson, Chief Detective of Springfield Police Department"

Bob could see it.

How had the boy become a detective _that_ fast?

"and I believe I have the right to self-defense, seeing as you attacked first!" he said with a cruel smirk. "goodbye, Bob. see you on the other side later, if there is one"

And the last thing he saw was the knife, getting closer and closer to his face.

The end

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **Okay, this was something I had to do.**

 **It's not a good story, I know. But it was just something I _had_ to do. **

**On another note, I found out that I am not capable of writing a crazy killer, because Whatever I did, Bart turned out to be a vengeful killer instead of just plain crazy.**

 **Meh.**

 **Until later (hopefully, with something fluffier, but probably not…)**

 **Davoid, Signing off!**


	30. Darkness

"talk to me, overwatch" I said, as I looked through my binoculars to the town center, now full of people who were listening to the Mayor Quimby, a fat man in a blue set of suits, as he explained why he'd summoned them here.

It was a warm summer day, sun already high in the sky. Which meant it was the hottest hour of the day. I hated warmness. Never liked it in my life. apart from that, it meant I would get sweaty easier, and having an obvious smell is a hindrance in my line of work.

So, when the 'overwatch', my Contact in Springfield didn't answer right away, I was annoyed.

"Overwatch, I am in position. Do you copy?" I said once more, crouching so the occasional bored citizen wouldn't notice me when they looked around, after a few seconds, I noticed a new channel had opened in the Agency network.

A voice, obviously technologically modified into a deep monotone said "I copy, Redbird. Your assignment is an easy one. His name is Gary Chalmers; you may be familiar with him"

 _Gary Chalmers_. I remembered him alright. he was the superintendent of our school district. I used to think he was cool, at least for someone who works in a school. you see, he was always nicer to us that the other teachers, for one thing he never made fun of me for my unusualness. For that alone (that, and the fact he was a better teacher to me than my ordinary teachers), I always liked him. even though I wasn't exactly the teachers' most favorite. I normally didn't do something to cause _him_ any harm.

But about five months ago, I...let's say I acquired…a certain file, (well, file would be an understatement. I hacked into the school district servers and copied all their data, before going through them) that shone some light on the things that had happened to our school.

Almost _everything_ wrong with the Springfield Elementary, and the entire school district, was either a direct result of Chalmers embezzling the school funds, or him not doing his job (aka supervising the staff and the principal).

I wouldn't ever think him a 'cool' guy. For god's sake, the amount he embezzled per month was more than what I've made the last five years!

But that wasn't enough, "I need more than that, Overwatch. Who's put the hit, are there any specific requests, what's his schedule?"

Overwatch said "no specifics, the customer wanted it to be spectacular, though. Best idea would be a shootout right here, or maybe toying with his car. He's supposed to go to the Waverly hills high after this 'announcement' is over. You have about an hour, if you want to fuck with the car"

I sighed, overwatch was always like that with his language. Probably because of his time back in the school, when he was made fun of for talking 'weird' (well, that was one of the many, _many_ reasons he used to be ridiculed.), but he was not someone you'd want as your enemy. He has connections _everywhere,_ and with his computers and connections, he knows everything before it even happens.

His party trick was to ask us not to do something we were going to do the next day.

I said "got that, do you have any visual on the car?" with that, a photo was sent to my phone. One I already knew was of the car I had to, in Overwatch's word, Fuck with.

"Got that, Overwatch. Redbird, out"

* * *

It took me three minutes to reach the car, fortunately the city's police force was still just a group of four people, and they were among the audience. There were two ways I could do this.

One would be cutting the brakes, and watching the hilarity that would unfold. The other (and the one I preferred) was to put some strong sedative and paralysis perfume in the air conditioner.

With a small smirk, I did just that, and then, before anyone could notice me, I locked the car again, and left, stopping by a burger shop to eat something first.

Sitting in the table nearest to the window, I looked at the bald man in blue suit get in his car, start it, and smiled. Another job well done.

Now came the _hard_ part. Returning to the Base, and reporting in.

Maybe I could get a rest for a change.

* * *

 **A.N:**

* * *

 **REVIEW TIME:**

 **Well, this episode was** _ **better**_ **than the last one (the THOH), but not nearly as good as the one before that (The Town).**

 **The Plot about Kent being jobless was basically a knock-off of 'You Kent Always Say What You Want', but done, to a degree, better than that episode. The Bart Plot was based on Bart's original subplot in the episode 'Round Springfield' and the Homer plot has been done** _ **so many times**_ **I'm not even gonna say it's a knock-off…**

 **But these three** _ **original**_ **subplots worked rather nicely with each other, and ignoring the fact that Homer's plot went nowhere, and Bart wasn't seen after he ate the snack, I'd say the episode is better than what I originally expected.**

 **Still, not a good episode, not by a long shot. At best, I'd give it C+.**

 **Hopefully the next episode is better than this one…**

* * *

 **Hello guys! This is a new story idea i had a few days ago. it's probably horrible, but I'm might publish it as a solo story, later on.**

 **In other news, I have only about three more completed stories in my stack that I can upload here, which means that I'll have to settle for an update a week (Every Teusday, if nothing goes wrong), and I** _ **might**_ **go on a hiatus if I haven't completed anything by the time I've uploaded chapter 33. However, I have recently become Familiar with Looney Tunes Show (I had, back when it was airing, watched all its episodes, but back then it didn't really intrigue me) and have become a Looney Tunes Fan once again, so I might write some stories in that Fandom while Working on a few new chapters on** _ **Life Goes On**_ **.**

 **Ok, enough of my ranting, can any of you guess who 'Redbird' or 'Overwatch' are?**

 **Until later, and back to mainstream Simpsons stories,**

 **Davoid out!**


	31. Fathers

He has a Father.

A man who bore him, a man who, though meagerly, helped raise him. a man who works so he can have bread on the table.

"You have a father, Boy. And that's something many people don't. you should be grateful."

That sentence angers him; he never likes hearing it. mostly because it's true.

He's not a good boy. He's not a good _human being_. He's not smart, not good-natured, not nice, not well-meaning. He's a menace, a terror. He's not had _anything_ to show for his parents' love all these years. Nothing to pay them back with.

He deserves everything his father does to him, after all, he _does_ start it.

He has a Father.

It doesn't matter that he never remembers to pick him up after Football practice. Or that he's basically crossed him off on the matters that concern school. it doesn't matter that _He's_ the one he gets hurt from the most. All that matters is that He _has_ a father. And he doesn't deserve that.

* * *

"Dad…I'm glad you're alive!" he says one night, after a particularly taxing day (including but not limited to a chase over town, sudden, near death experiences, and Sideshow Bob).

He's really glad. He wouldn't know what to do if His Dad wasn't alive.

"So am I! it's every parent's dream to outlive their children! Goodnight, son" says his father, with a chuckle, a grin and his normal goofy attitude.

The moment he closes the door, out comes the infernal sidekick, but even with his terrorizing stare and menacingly soft tone, Bart has too much on his mind to even care about what he's saying, knife raised above his head ready to strike.

" _It's every parent's dream to outlive their children_." He recalls Homer saying, less than ten minutes ago. Bart knows he's simply being his usual 'charming' self, but he can't help think about it.

It has to be a lie, but is it? Milhouse's parents aren't that better than Homer. They might not raise a hand against him, but Bart isn't an idiot, he knows how Milhouse changes whenever they fight, or his mom has left home (for the umpteenth time)

Nelson's are even worse. Nelson's mom _creeps_ him out, nelson's dad he's never even seen to know whether he'd be creeped out or not. And Nelson, well Nelson isn't the best example of a normal person. Neither is Milhouse, or Bart, come to think of it.

To hell with it. he was wrong. Homer _is_ right. parents don't love their sons. None of his friends' parents do.

Dads don't like their sons. Dads can stand their daughters more than their sons, but still even then, any child is simply a blockade for a person's success.

Homer has said it many times, so has Mom, and he sure has heard a lot of grown-ups say it, albeit in more hushed tones.

His mere existence is something his parents didn't want. Of course he should be grateful he has a father!

* * *

One day, the pig shows up.

The day is like any other. Lisa is out there preaching for some lost cause (Okay, her cause is just, _this time_ , but seriously, she has to get it in her head that these people are hopeless, after all these times she's failed to get their support on one thing or the other), Mom and Maggie are out in the park, And he's on a dare-fest with Homer.

"Alright boy, Time for the ultimate dare!" says Homer, rubbing his leg as he sits down, panting from the last dare, "I dare you to skateboard to Krusty Burger and back…"

Bart looks at him incredulously, skateboard already in his hand, but before he can say anything, Homer continues " _naked_ "

Bart narrows his eyes, " _how_ naked"

Homer says, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "fourth base"

"not gonna happen!" Bart says, "Do you even know what might happen if I-"

"oh, I see. Then I hereby declare thee Chicken for life!" Homer doesn't let him go on, "every morning you'll wake up to 'Good morning, Chicken!'"

Bart doesn't let it go on, before Homer can continue, he's already on his skateboard, wearing his birthday suit, as fresh as the day he got it, riding towards the burger shop.

Let's get this over with.

* * *

It's not even a bad ride, really. It's nothing he's not done before, (well, actually it _is_ something he's never done before, but he can't let anyone know it), and sure as hell, it was almost done without a trouble. Until the police showed up, and one of them hit a _wheel_ of his skateboard.

Now, ignoring the high risk of a misfire, hitting his body instead of the small wheel, he was surprised the Police would go to such extremes.

But when They tie him, still in his 'birthday suit', to a lamp post and go to eat lunch, that when his humiliation begins.

 _Everyone_ laughs at him, some make weird sounds he doesn't understand, and a few murmur something to their children, pointing at him as they leave, all the while the police chief is calmly eating lunch in a booth.

After hours of bearing the 'Haw Haw's of Nelson, his mother, and the stares of a lot of people, The Purple car parks near Krusty burger.

"What seems to be the problem, Officers?" he asks, like a man caught speeding.

Bart glares, "tell them you dared me to do it!" The chief continues "if that's _true_ , then you should be taking the rap here, not the poor kid!"

Homer comes out of the car, a thoughtful expression on his face, "what'll happen to me If it's my fault?"

The chief says, "you'll have to attend a one-hour parenting class, something you've apparently never taken before"

Homer doesn't answer for a few minutes. Bart can see the gears in his brain working: 'Moe, or Class?'

Just as Bart thinks he's made the right choice, he says "it was all his idea! The boy's out of control, I tell ya!"

The police shrugs, unlocks the wristlock, and says "see you in court, kid" before taking away.

Bart glares at Homer. Homer looks at him sheepishly.

Bart snarls, "tell me at _least_ you brought my clothes!"

Homer rubs the back of his neck, "of course! Shirt, socks, everything you need!"

Bart doesn't have it in him to looks more incredulous that he already does. "you didn't bring my pants!"

Homer snorts, "what am I, Tommy Bahama?" before walking to the shop, presumably to do what he was planning to do before finding him there. Get dinner.

This is the worst day of his life.

Until Their neighbor shows up, after noticing him looking around, trying not to be seen.

"Say, Bart!" he whispers, "If you need pants, I always bring some extra pairs." Then, he gives some excuse in Flanders-ese, but Bart's known Ned, Rod and Todd enough to know what he _means_ is that he's scared one of them tear their knees or something.

Bart's not trusting. "why're you helping me?" he still does take the pants, with what he hopes is a thankful look on his face, "I'm not your kid"

Flanders gives an easygoing shrug, "we're neighbors! I'm sure Your father would do the same for my boys" to which Bart can't do anything but snort. _Yeah, right_.

As Homer, with impeccable timing, steals some fries from Rod, Bart already knows it'll never come to that. Ned will never do something like that to his children. I mean, he never has. And Ned… well, Ned's different, okay? He's an exception to every rule.

Through the dinner, Bart, more and more, compares Homer (who seems to care about the pig more than he does his own son) and Flanders.

But Ned's probably just an exception. I mean, what's the odds of _Bart_ being the exception here?

* * *

Over the next few days, Bart slowly reaches the conclusion that, actually, he _is_ the exception.

Homer's been a better father to the stupid pig than he's been to him. he combs the pig's hair, sitting him in Bart's room, as Bart looks at them from a branch of the treehouse.

Flanders does the same to his kids. Combing their hair and singing them lullabies until they sleep, that is.

He goes out with the pig. He plays with the pig. Bart's sure he actually gave him a baseball bat and played _baseball_ with 'Harry Fluffer'.

One day, when The Stupid Pig is blowing raspberries on the animal's stomach (For god's sake, that's something even _Cletus_ would find gross!), Bart's had enough. He draws his slingshot, puts the _sharpest, pointiest_ rock nearby, and aims for the head.

He's almost fired, when Someone says from behind him, "rough day huh, Son?"

He turns, it's Ned, looking at him kindly, with the same all-bearing smile on his face.

Bart doesn't answer. He would probably just say something rude and make Ned go away or call his father. "Bart, when my boys bake up a batch of Frownies, I take them fishing!"

Then, he looks at Bart, "Does your dad ever take you fishing?"

Last time he did, he used a weapon of Mass Genocide so he could kill them without moving his ass. Bart doesn't think it's what Ned has in mind, so he just shakes his head, universal for 'no'.

He thinks. "well then, Bart! Let's just go fishing! Surely, you have a free-day tomorrow, and it's not Sunday either!"

And then, leaves cocoa for him on the window.

Cocoa.

He hasn't had anything like that since Homer decided it was something for girls.

* * *

And a few days later, he knows The truth.

He has a Father. His name is Homer Simpson.

A man who bore him, a man who hasn't done anything for him ever since.

"You have a father, Boy. And that's something many people don't. you should be grateful."

That sentence angers him; he hates hearing it. because it's just a big fat lie, something Homer says to shut him up when Bart calls for his bullshit.

He might not be the best of the children in town, but he's a human being! And as a human being, he has the right to be loved by his parents unconditionally.

He hasn't done anything to deserve something like Homer.

He has a Father, his name is Homer Simpson. but Homer Simpson is not his dad.

His dad, the one who acts like a real father to him? his name is Ned Flanders.

The End

* * *

 **AN:**

 **sorry for the hiatus anyways**

 **[linebreak]**

 **a good episode, well done and well presented, and even with In Character Characterizations.**

 **I can't find anything wrong with it, but there was just _something_ in it that I didn't like, I don't know what it was and i don't know WHY, but there was something I didn't like in it.**

 **as a Critic, I'll still give it an A+**

 **[linebreak]**

 **And…done!**

 **Another piece of Angst, this time** _ **against**_ **Homer (as opposed to 'Bart's Best Friend', where we saw Homer in some sort of a 'good' light.)**

 **Okay, until later (which, seeing as I have joined two new Fandoms (Looney Tunes and Star Wars. A bit late, I know) might mean me going out of schedule)**

 **Davoid out!**


	32. Clancy Wiggum, Rookie Cop

Clancy Wiggum was not a genius.

Clancy Wiggum was not a smart man.

Clancy Wiggum wasn't a hardworking Member of Society.

But be Damned anyone who said Clancy Wiggum was always like that.

Like almost every _other_ cop, Clancy Wiggum entered the Force full of enthusiasm, mind made up that he would make a change.

Like every other cop, his first days after being a traffic cop were amazing. Chasing Snake on a car around the town, raiding the local Mob warehouse, things like that.

His first days as a Cop, Clancy was a responsible man. he was a good husband, and he liked to think a good father. Clancy might've been fat ever then, but he wasn't lazy. In fact, he could chase Snake all around town, on foot, and catch him easily while dodging all his bullets.

even when he became the police chief, he was still responsible. After all his _job_ was to make sure his son and his peers would be safe when they were outside, when they returned from school, when they went out with their friends

* * *

 **Flashback**

"Congratulations, Major Wiggum, by the right given to me as the Governor of this state, I promote you to the rank of Chief, Springfield Police Department is now under your command" said the Governor, and five hours later, he was in his brand new uniform, driving his car back home, life good and dandy.

 **Flashback Over**

* * *

His first few weeks were awesome. The new office was really great (And let's face it, the number of cops in Springfield was more back then) and so was the feeling of ordering others around.

Now, he _knew_ he was making a difference. Changing the system to make it even better, was there any better legacy to remain from a man?

Well, that _was_ his mindset, until he happened to go to a bar in civilian clothing once, and meet some…unsavory people.

Maybe it was his fault. He shouldn't have walked down that door. He shouldn't've walked through that door, and he definitely shouldn't've looked inside.

But he had. The 'Gentlemen's Club' was the name of a pub that was under Mob control. It was basically the headquarters of the Italian-American mafia that ruled the crime of Springfield.

He wasn't expecting to see any self-respecting member of society inside it. but he was, as per usual, wrong.

* * *

In retrospect, he should've seen it coming. There was a _reason_ his motto was 'Curroptis in extremis'.

There was a _reason_ why his basic plan was 'extremely corrupt'. He had just been too blind to see it. _of course_ the man would be corrupt, of course he'd make deals with criminals.

But goddammit, Fat tony was _scum_! he stole from everyone, he overpriced the _stolen goods he'd stole_ , he killed, tortured and bribed people from all over the city.

For god's sake, the man had the _gall_ to manipulate a _ten-year-old_ kid into doing his dirty work once!

How would the mayor of the city, the man they'd _elected_ , be _that_ corrupt?

How could he sit on the same table with him, laughing with him, drinking together?

Clancy hadn't been seen. They hadn't recognized him, and he was lucky they hadn't. if they had, he'd've died for sure. But what he'd heard had shook him to the core.

They were making deals over milk. The boxes of Milk they sent to _school_. the milk _Ralphie_ would get when he'd go to school!

they were making deals so Quimby could take some of the budget the Governor had gave them.

This was _not_ what he'd signed up for!

No, this was not what he'd signed up for, but this was what he'd gotten himself into anyway.

And in the next few weeks, Clancy learned that the only way to make the future safe for Ralphie was to make sure the Mob wouldn't hurt him for revenge. The only way to do that was to not work at all.

And thus, a new police chief was born.

* * *

 **A.N:**

* * *

 **Review First: I have to admit, the Newest episode of the newest season is, once more, a good episode, but nothing spectacular. B+.**

* * *

 **this oughta be the second thing I've wrote from Chief Wiggum's POV. Sorry if it's bad (and rather VERY short)**

 **In other news, I'm kinda all out of ideas on this fandom, But I _AM_ starting a story in the Total Drama Fandom. I have the outlines, but haven't completed that many of its chapters. so, I'll update that, for the time being.**

 **That Being Said, I am _not_ abandoning this, so If you have any new ideas, this is probably a good time for you to tell me.**

 **Davoid out.**


	33. A Perfect Day

It was a day like any other.

At Seven O'clock, Mr. Homer Simpson woke up after a good night of sleep, without his Beautiful wife, Marge, Besides him. Silently he rose, with a yawn, changed into his everyday clothes and left the room.

"Good morning Honey!" he greeted his wife with a kiss, the latter making bacons for breakfast, before picking up the daily newspaper and sitting on the couch, reading.

Half an hour later, Marge called "Kids! Breakfast!"

With the thunderous noise of two kids running down the stairs with their backpacks, the two Simpson Daughters, Lisa and Maggie, Came into the Kitchen.

"Morning mom!" said Lisa Brightly, Maggie saying the same a bit gloomier. The Simpsons sat at the table and began eating.

At Eight O'clock, Maggie (Age Ten) and Lisa (Age Sixteen) left the house to wait for the bus, Homer likewise driving the Pink car to work.

"Have you done your homework, Maggie?" asked Lisa, making small talk. The other snorted, "Eat my Short, Lis'!"

Lisa gave her a murderous glare, but said nothing.

The bus stopped, "All Aboard!" said Otto Jovially, and Maggie got on the bus, Lisa waving her goodbye.

"Hullo Mags!" Geralt greeted her, but she paid him no heed, instead dropping on her seat near her cousin Ling.

* * *

"Hey, Lisa!" Janey, Lisa's unofficial Best friend (and advisor) greeted her, once they were in school. "Anything on the agenda today?"

Lisa smiled, "Nothing for us, Janey. Everything's just perfect!"

And it was. At Chemistry, Lisa got her Exam back (100%, obviously), at Math, she had already read everything about Integrals, Home Economy was great as always, and Biology (even though gross) was nothing to be worried about.

There was nothing in the school she couldn't handle. Well, not anymore.

* * *

At Four O'clock, Marge Simpson was out with a few friends, Homer was in Moe's, and Maggie and Lisa were home, playing a game on the Xbox. "So, what happened today at school, Maggie?" she asked offhandedly, to which her sister said "Nothing. just Geralt being Geralt."

Lisa smiled, though Maggie didn't see that. _And let the ranting begin!_

"He's just so annoying, he-"

* * *

At Eight O'clock, everyone was on their seats, eating dinner silently. "So, kids. Anything interesting you want to say?" Homer asked, Lisa brightened up.

"Why, yes, dad! Today a Lawyer visited our school, she told us all about-"

As Lisa started talking and Homer trying to keep up with her, Marge had time to look at the table.

The Four seats were all full, each of them eating what they wanted.

There was no fight at the Table (Unless Maggie started a Food fight) and almost no screaming. Life was good.

[linebreak]

At Ten o'clock, the four finally left the Living room for their beds.

Homer said good night and fell asleep just as fast. Marge, with an amused smile, joined him a minute later.

Maggie spent another hour, fixing the last of her homework, making it ready to return, then she was online with her friends for a few minutes, and then she slept.

Lisa, even after them.

She was busy playing her Saxophone, though nobody seemed to mind.

* * *

Straight at twelve, the house was quiet. Not a word to be heard. The whole neighborhood was silent, lights all out.

The Simpsons slept nicely, and at the expense of Homer's Snoring, Lisa's mumbling and the Tick Tock of the clock, nobody heard the sound.

The quiet, muffled sound of Knocking. As if someone was knocking on the window.

In the attic, hidden behind loads and loads of old junk from the Family's older days, was a mirror and a book.

And the shadow of a small figure with a round stomach, nimble feet, and spiky hair.

And someone was knocking on the mirror near it. someone from the _other side_. The Boy was knocking frantically. Nothing could be heard, but if you paid enough attention, you could see him mouthing the words.

 _Help_

 _Help_

 _Help_

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **hello guys. long time no see.**

 **I posted this (admittedly, not my best work), just to say I haven't abandoned this yet.**

 **I'll be working on more chapters. though I have no idea when I'll post them.**

 **(There are a lot of Episodes I haven't reviewed that I gave up on that. never mind.)**

 **Davoid, Signing off!**


	34. Everyday Life

Every day, he wakes up at seven, eats a lonely breakfast at eight, and goes to the studio at nine.

Every day, from Nine to Five, he does the same stunts. The same stuff. The same stupid things.

The Plot May Change, the Weapons May Change, but in the end he always knows what's going to happen.

It's easy. He has to look around him, and it doesn't take much imagination to realize what's going to happen.

Almost Every day, at about five PM, he Dies a most gruesome death.

Then he leaves the stage, enjoys a few martinis and any other drinks his friends have in mind, then rides his car back home.

Wash, Rinse, Repeat.

It's the same though, isn't it? he remembers the days it used to be just him. Bato the Spectacular cat. Singing, whistling, and dancing his way through New York City. And then, when the industry settled down, in an alternate universe where no humans lived.

Until Una came around. Una the friendly mouse.

The Donut-munching, friendly Cop who always worked with him, going to the bowling alley after working hours, laughing at each other's antics.

It was corny, but it was a good, _educational_ show. Of course, most of it wouldn't be applicable in real life, but still, educational show is educational.

Those days, Life was great

Until one day, they got the new memo.

Apparently the viewers didn't like a cat and mouse duo hanging out with each other, laughing and living happily.

They wanted blood, they wanted gore, and they wanted it to be from Bato, the cat.

Soon enough, his name Changed, his Identity as a good person with a wife and a son, within a Sitcom, turned into a dumbass cat always falling for the traps of a sadistic mouse.

Always dying. Exploding, being cut in half. Being cut into more than two pieces, being decapitated, burned by acid, eaten as food, skinned alive…

You name it, They'd done it.

But both of them, Una and Bato, knew that this was a pointless cause.  
How _long_ could this go on after all? How many different Ideas are there about a mouse killing a cat? How many more times do the children have to watch it to finally get tired?

He thought about it for a while.

But eventually he stopped thinking about it. there was no pain (even though there was a _lot_ of screaming involved) so no hair off his back.

Nobody seemed to protest about it anyway.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **Hello Guys.**

 **I'll have to, sadly, inform you that it is highly unlikely for me to be able to post as frequently as I used to.**

 **I will still be active, and post whenever I can, but not quite as often.**

 **Davoid out**


	35. Goodbye

"What's eatin' ya, Homer?"

"What the hell am I even _doing_ here?" Homer asked himself. He was on his normal stool, with a mug of bear in hand.

"What'ya mean, Homah?" the Sleazy Bartender asked. "You's drinkin' Bea'. Like you always do"

"That's what I mean, Moe." Homer banged the mug to the table. "I love you guys, but-"

"But what?" Lenny said.

"What the hell am I doing in a Bar, on a Sunday night? I have work tomorrow" Homer asked himself, for what was probably the first time in sixteen years. "I have children I rarely see. I have a wife I've been a demon to. What in God's name am I doing, Lenny? What in god's name am I doing with my life?"

"ah calm down, Homer." Lenny said, "What's brought up _this_ line of thought?"

"I haven't Spoken to my Daughter for Four years, man." Homer explained, eyes blank. "The Last time Lisa actually made anything more than random Dinner-time small talk with me, she wasn't even a _teen_. Maggie doesn't even think I'm his father. And Bart?" he sighed, "Bart's moving."

" _Bart's_ moving away?" Carl struggled to say after a spit-take. " _Bart_ Simpson? The Same guy who tricked everyone to sing Metal in Church? _That_ Bart?"

"Yes, Carl" Homer said dryly. "I Don't have any other Son's named Bart. he's moving away soon."

"Where's he goin' anyway, eh? Where's that blue-shorted menace gonna take over next?" Asked Moe, intrigued to ask in the middle of his self-hatred.

"Oh, his old Loft downtown." Homer said, "He's been packing for weeks now."

"See, you're not that bad a father. You actually know that!" Lenny tried to say.

"Ya think?" Homer shot back with a depressed tone, "Marge had to tell me about it. I had no idea my son's moving? And _apparently,_ It's been the talk of the Dinner-table for weeks now. What kind of a father misses his own son's moving day?"

"Cheer up Homer" Barney said. "You're not a good depressing drunk. Just go back to-" "My son's _moving_. A boy of twenty, moving out of my house. I didn't leave Abe's house until I was twenty-three! My son's moving and here I am drinking and-" he paused.

"When is he moving anyway?" Carl asked.

Homer stared at his beer mug, thinking. Then-

"Holy shit!" he swore. "Bart's Moving away _in a few hours!_ And I'm here drinking!"

He got up from his seat, staggering as he couldn't really see clearly. "Guys! I've gotta go!"

"Wait!" The Bartender said. "You still haven't paid for your beer."

"Oh. Right" the Family man said, not exactly paying attention, as he put the bills on the Bar.

Moe stared, astounded, at the money in front of him. "Wha..." Slowly, he reached out and took the bills. His gaze traveled from the money to Homer.

"Is this some kind of joke?" he questioned cautiously, narrowing his eyes. "You're actually paying me for your beer. With real money. This ain't a prank or nothin'?"

But Homer had already left the Bar.

 _Don't let 'em see you cry._ Clearing his throat, Moe took another glance at the cash. "I, uh... I think I need a moment alone," he managed before he grabbed the bills and disappeared to the back room.

And outside, Homer Simpson rushed to his Home.

He had a son to say goodbye to.

* * *

Lisa Simpson left her room.

She couldn't keep postponing this any longer. It'd been years since the two of them had had a serious, legitimate talk. And this might as well be the last day the two of them would live together. And she _had_ to say goodbye. Among other things.

So, she left her room.

He still lived in his old room, next to her's.

The Room quiet today though. Even a week ago, there would be all kinds of noises coming out of the room.

First it was the drums. Then it was him playing Video games loud (to annoy Dad, mostly). Then he'd met Jenda. And there were a lot of noises coming from there. (Either yelling. Or moaning. Or both. Ew), then it was the Drums, _again_ , and then the Guitar.

Oh, she remembered. There was never a day where Bart Simpson's room was quiet. (she had her Sax, of course, so she couldn't say her room was any quieter)

"So," she said as she stood by his Doorway, leaning by the wall, "Jenda, huh?"

Cramming a pile of clothes into a cardboard box, Bart glanced up at his sister. "What?"

"Are- Are you moving in with Jenda?" she asked, awkwardly looking at the boy as he pushed the remaining clothes into his travelling bag, struggling to close it.

"No. I'm not _moving in_ with Jenda. We're moving together. Lots of difference." He took a deep breath, then tore down the last remaining Krusty Poster on his wall. " _damn_ I wish I'd've done that sooner. Like, _years_ sooner"

 _Yeah, Me too_. Lisa thought, before saying "But will- will you be alright on your own?"

"Don't worry about me, Lis'" Bart said, as he stuffed his Laptop into his bag pack. "I'll be as fine as I ever am"

 _As in, not fine at all._ "Just- Be careful, Okay?"

Bart smiled widely, "Oh, C'mere, Lis'!" he said, grabbing her into a hug. It was the first hug the two had shared for a long time. it felt Comforting.

Lisa squeezed him back, smiling ever though she didn't feel happy at all.

"Goodbye, Bart"

"Goodbye' Lisa"

* * *

Bart wasn't in a hurry.

He could stay here for a little longer.

That was why, after saying goodbye to Mom and Maggie, he stayed inside (with all his stuff packed, neatly, near the door) and laid on the couch, Watching TV.

He had no idea why he was still there.

Wishful thinking, probably.

After all, Homer _was_ his dad. He wouldn't miss his own son's moving day, right?

He couldn't.

But, after an hour of watching TV, with mom in the kitchen and Maggie outside playing Catch with Gerald, he knew better.

He looked at the Clock.

Six Thirty.

He had no idea why he'd dared hope. Well. he knew better now.

Homer was probably still at Moe's. and he wouldn't be back. Not for now.

He sighed as he Rose.

"Goodbye everyone!" he said, and without waiting for a reply, he left the house from the Front Door.

His Car was parked nearby (To be honest, it _used_ to be Mom's. he'd just took it over when he was sixteen) and his new life as an Adult awaited him.

Homer's car wasn't here yet. _Of course it wasn't_. and he had waited long enough.

If he had ever planned to show up, He would've been here hours ago.

Until he saw the Pink Car, its engine wheezing as Homer put his foot on the brake, parking in his usual spot.

"Bart!" he said, as he took an uncertain step out of the Car, "Buddy-"

"You were in Moe's." Bart said, in a tone he hoped wasn't whiny. "What happened? Did they close that dump down for good?"

"What? No, Bart! I came to say goodbye!"

"Say goodbye?" Bart said, as his eyes widened.

It couldn't be true.

It was too good to be.

And yet…

"and, well, Boy. I figure its time we had a man-to-man chat."

"Man-to-man, eh?" He raised an eyebrow, but shrugged, taking a seat on the front porch step, "I don't remember scheduling this."

Homer's expression softened. Their relationship had improved, since that incident when Bart was fifteen. Having your son almost killed (at least, while you're sober) can do that.

But well… nothing can change fifteen (give or take) years of life like what Bart had lived until then.

"Listen, Bart" at least, Homer hadn't called Bart 'The Boy' for years now. And Bart hadn't called him 'Homer' for about just as long. "It's time we talked."

"Talk about what?"

Homer's expression changed into that of a thinking man. his eyes narrowed, then he returned to the jolly mood he always was. "I don't know." He shrugged, sitting next to his firstborn. "I was never good at this… this parenting thing, okay? I digress I owe you an Apology. More than one." He paused. "so, uh… Sorry."

Bart rolled his eyes. "It's gonna take a _little_ more than that, Dad."

"Augh" Homer groaned. "What else do you want me to say?" he whined, "Sorry for all the times I wasn't around when I should've been? Sorry for making fun of you? Sorry for Strangling you? Sorry for-"

"Yes." Bart Said, "But those stuff don't even matter anymore."

"I'm sorry, Okay?" Homer said, dropping his head as he stared intently at the Stone steps in front of the house, "I was a horrible parent, I screwed up, big-time."

Bart's eyes widened slightly, he never had thought he would ever get to Hear Homer admit, sober, that he'd screwed up. but strangely, now that The Bald Man was doing that, he didn't feel any better.

"I take after Abe, I guess. He never was there for me either, you know." Homer continued, chuckling bitterly. He looked at his Son, smiling ruefully. "Just promise me one thing, okay?"

"Promise me you won't take after me when you have kids of your own, Okay? Don't let the cycle go on."

"Deal" Bart looked up, "And apology accepted, dad. If you forgive me as well."

He held his hand out for a Shake, when Homer pulled him in for a bone-crushing hug.

"Dad-" the Blond Wheezed, "Can't breathe-"

"Shhh" Homer pat his back, and let go after another half-minute, "We're havin' a father-son Moment."

"This is it, then." Bart stretched, and walked over, opening the door of his car. "The goodbye."

"Thanks for everything, Dad. Say goodbye to the others from me, okay?" and started the car.

This was it.

He was finally moving.

It was time for Bart to open a new chapter of his life.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **This story, as well as some others (That might be published, whenever I get to complete them.) are all part of the same continuity as, virtually, all my Stories except the AU ones (Stack One Chapters 6, 10, 13, 15, 18, 21, 24, and Stack Two chapters 1, 2, 4, 5, 8 and 9 so Far) so, I suppose you can guess what happens afterwards.**

 **I'll probably work on a story about the Day Bart met Kirk (his firstborn son in Life!verse), Lisa and Zia (** _ **her**_ **firstborn Daughter), and other stories. I'm already working on something else (not completely AU, but let's say me watching 'The Simpsons guy' had my eyes opened) but I guess this story won't have a schedule from now on (not that it used to)**

 **I'll just post whenever I have a couple of chapters ready.**

 **Davoid out!**


	36. Lisa's Blues

When Lisa was six, His brother had been a menace. They called him 'The Devil in the Blue Shorts'. There was no figure of Authority safe from him, at least not within the Town of Springfield.

Mom liked to Think (and justify) that this was just a phase, a Phase the Blond Prankster would grow out of soon enough.

Now, Lisa was Eight. Bart was Ten, and He was still a Prankster. Lisa had changed a _lot_. She'd become a Vegetarian. Then a Buddhist. She had become an activist even this early, and was a member of MENSA. Among other things.

Bart hadn't though. He still liked to play pranks. And the more pranks he pulled, the more Lisa got fed up.

Because, as per usual, most of them were on her.

It was a field trip to the Springfield Glacier (it was wonderful how the City seemed to have _all_ kinds of National Wonders, and yet it was so unheard of)

Everyone had waited in line, at _three in the morning_ , for Principal Skinner to take a roll call and then start the trip.

"So Lis'" Bart said, a smirk on his face, "Ready for your _trip_?"

"Sure am!" Lisa said, the ungodly time messing with her Brain so much that she was trusting a Bart on _caffeine._ And then, of course, tripped, falling to the ground with a groan. "Seeya next Fall!"

She struggled, getting up and then said "Ugh! You make the same stupid jokes, every field trip!"

"Eh." Bart said, "you work in the business as long as I have, you're bound to repeat yourself", and true to his word, tripped her again.

Anyway, the trip had been long, and _exhausting_. Finally, they stopped near a shop close to the Glacier. "Behold, children, the Majesty of the Springfield glacier! Crane your necks skyward, to behold its Icy glory!"

The Children _did_ crane their necks skyward, but There was no Ice to behold.  
Which brought Lisa to the exact point of her participating in the trip.

"What happened to the Glacier? It's nearly melted!"

* * *

The Guards near the Glacier didn't explain why it had _nearly_ melted. But they _did_ lead the children to the gift shop.

Which brought her to the next part of her daily torment.

"Ah. The modern man!" she said quietly, only a couple of people hearing her. "If these wise warriors could speak, what would they tell us?"

"I don't know." Bart said, chuckling mischievously, "They left a message right here." pointing at a wall, where someone (okay. Bart) had wrote "LISA SMELLS" under a crude drawing of someone who, presumably, resembled her.

OF course, as per Murphy's Law, everyone heard him, and then looked at the drawing, and started laughing.

* * *

By Lunchtime, they'd all forgot about it. which was the perfect time for Lisa to make her point.

"Listen, People!" she said loudly, getting the attention of everyone, "How can you stand there eating snacks and being children when the world's glaciers are vanishing? We have to do something about it!" she said, not noticing how the eyes of every student followed something, before returning to her. "Glaciers are nature's alarm clocks! And its time for us to wake up! can there be any doubt that corporate's greenhouse gas produced by men-"

There was a crude sound from behind her.

She blushed as everyone started laughing again.

"The only gas is coming from Lisa's Butt!" Bart cracked, causing another bout of laughter.

"People, please! I'm talking about toxic vapor!" *Fart* "Aminations!" *Fart* "Miasmas!" *Fart*

It was only chance (and Lisa being an extreme believer of 'Innocent until proven otherwise') that The Culprit remained Hidden for even that long.

But, then, Lisa saw the Walkie-talkie in her brother's hand.

* * *

Which brought her to this. after they returned home, Lisa not talking _at all_ until then, much to the amusement of everyone in the bus, she turned around sharply. "Bart, you are the meanest, _nastiest_ little boy that ever lived." She ran towards him, even though he was _still_ cracking up.

"Uh-oh" He got up, and sprinted for the Kitchen, "What'd I do?"

"what did you do? **What did you do?** " Lisa screamed, jumping over the table and tackled Bart.

"Whoa! Don't have a cow, man!" Bart squeezed out of Lisa's Clutch and slid under the table, taking off for the Stairs.

"You're dead, Bart." Lisa sprinted, chasing after him.

"Dang. You won't give up that easy, will you, Lis'?" Bart ran to his room and Locked the door behind him.

*Thud*

"Ow!" Lisa fell backwards, moaning in pain.

Bart opened the door slightly, to see her rubbing her forehead.

"Here, let me help you up" Bart said, still the same glint in his eyes. Bart reached out his hand, when Lisa tried to grab it… "Psyche!"

*Thud*

"BAAAAAAAAAART!"

* * *

But that was not the end of Lisa Simpson's torment.

The next day, The Simpsons were at the table, eating breakfast.

Dad was reading the paper (or, more accurately, the comics), Mom was washing the dishes. Bart had Bacon, and Lisa her cereal.

"So Kids!" Mom said, trying to start a conversation between the mutually glaring siblings and generally indifferent dad. "Today's the last day until winter break. Are you excited?"

"meh" Lisa shrugged.

"Duh, mom!" Bart exclaimed, "do I look like a doofus? It's the best thing next to Summer Vacation!"

"I'm not" Homer mumbled under his breath.

Bart looked around. To the two sides. He was getting fidgety, and needed to do something. so he just put some of the food on his spoon and catapulted it at Lisa.

"oops" he smiled innocently, "Sorry."

"HEY!" Lisa screamed, throwing some of her wet cereal at him. "Stop it!"

"I was _trying_ to get homer!" Bart laughed, "Now I have to put on new clothes."

"Serves you right!" Lisa yelled at him, leading to more laughter from the boy.

"BART! LISA! Stop it! can't you two get along for a second?"

* * *

Bart changed his clothes, and was about to close the door, when he noticed a pair of Scissors. "Hmmmm" Bart tapped his chin as he wondered, until he saw Lisa's backpack downstairs.

"Perfect"

As Lisa came around the corner, Lisa put the scissors behind his back.

"What are you doing?" Lisa asked Suspiciously.

"oh, nothing" Bart smiled innocently, as he skipped back to the kitchen.

"Oh he's definitely up to something…" Lisa said to herself, but looked around only to see nothing out of ordinary.

She walked back into the kitchen.

"Have a nice day, Kids!" Mom kissed them goodbye.

"oh, we will" Bart smiled Maniacally, nudging Lisa as he moved.

"watch it" she glared. He got his backpack and walked to the door. He _really_ wanted to see this.

"Bye, mom!" Lisa picked up her backpack, and

*Plop*

"Ha ha!" Bart ran out the door.

"Bart!" Lisa yelled as she gathered her books. "I'll get you this time!"

"Doubt it!" Bart said dismissively, as he got out his skateboard, jumping on it. "Try and catch me!" he laughed as he grabbed a light pole and circled around it. good thing he always had that.

"Wha… Damn it!" Lisa stopped to catch her breath.

Where being annoying was concerned, His big brother was always one step ahead.

* * *

Lia ran into the school, down the hall of her homeroom.

"I'm so sorry" she panted, "I'm late."

"You're late" Ms. Hoover said.

"Yeah. I'm sorry about that" she panted.

"Just take your seat, Lisa"

She did that.

"Bart again?" Her Best Friend, Janey whispered.

"Yes. Bart again." Lisa rolled his eyes, "I'm really getting sick of him."

"I can see that. This is _really_ getting out of hand" she said. "Maybe you should tell your Mom."

"As if she's gonna go anything" Lisa rolled her eyes, "Even if she did, would he listen?"

"Attention students. This is Principal Skinner speaking." The voice of Principal skinner said from the Intercom device. "Please report to the Auditorium as soon as possible. All Classes will be put on hold for the duration of this event."

"Great. A Gathering. How much do you want to bet Bart will screw something up this time?" she said, as the two (along with twenty more second graders) walked over towards the Auditorium.

"A Sure bet like that?"

* * *

"Hey Lis'" Bart was already there, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. We even saved you a seat." He put out his hand. "Truce?"

"Do you think I'm stupid, Bart?" she rolled her eyes.

Bart nodded. Lisa still decided she could use the seat though.

Then she tripped.

 _Apparently, yes._

"Need a hand?"Milhouse said, and with a small smile Lisa grabbed his hand.

 _ZZZZZZZZZZZ_

"Ow" Lisa pulled her hand away. "Milhouse!"

Lisa groaned, and sat down.

*Phhhhhhhhhh*

"Oh. My. God."

"Oh my god!" Bart laughed, "Classic!"

Lisa picked up the Whoopee cushion, and looked at it.

"Ms. Simpson? why are you holding a Whoopee Cushion?"

"Sorry, Principal Skinner." Lisa dropped her head.

The whole school started laughing again.

* * *

The Winter break started. Soon enough, Christmas had passed, and they were on the New Year's Eve.

Bart had been _awfully_ non-mischievous the whole twelve days. most probably so he could get gifts. (Her Brother was awfully naïve about these things. Much as he wasn't, about some other things) but Lisa knew it was imminent.

Still.

She didn't know _what_ it would be.

"Hey Lis'" Bart said "Dinner in a few minutes, what are you doing?"

"Uh, nothing" Lisa was still working on her science project due the first day of school. a few more screws and it would be done. "There. Finished."

Lisa put it on her desk, and went down for dinner, following Bart down.

"You guys ready for the New Year?" Homer asked eagerly.

"Sure am!" "Yeah!" "Alright!"

Everyone ate and talked.

It was 8:57.

"Three more hours!"

* * *

At 11:45, they were watching TV.

"Bart. Have you finished your Science project?" Mom asked, her eyes not leaving the TV.

"Yeah. I have, actually"

"Somehow" Lisa smirked, "I doubt that."

"Oh really?" Bart said, "Well. I'll go and get it."

He walked up stairs, walking into his room, and picking up a small Ball.

"Hmmm. Let's see if this works." He picked up a controller, and began using the buttons to control the ball. "Thank you martin." He mumbled.

He'd nicked it (Well, Martin had two other Projects, it was only fair for the others to have some too) from Martin's Locker. But what he hadn't known was the malfunctioning of _one small button._

Which, of course, for the sake of this story to go on, he pushed.

The controller wheezed as smoke came out of the circuitry. The ball began rolling quickly, towards Lisa's room.

As if in a Pinball game, the ball began hitting and reflecting from all sorts of obstacles in the room, hitting the bed, the walls, her Sax, and finally the table.

Bart let out the breath he was holding. "Phew"

He walked over to pick the ball up.

But as soon as he picked up the ball, the Project, a Schematics of an Asteroid hitting the Earth, fell down from the Edge of the Desk.

"crud."

* * *

"Crud" Lisa heard. _Oh no_. she gulped, and ran to her room.

Only to see her beloved project on the ground, in pieces. Bart was picking up a baseball from the ground. "What- No- How?"

"Speak Lis'-" Bart was in for it now.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" Lisa screamed. Mom and dad heard that and ran to her room.

"I'm sorry- it wasn't my-" Bart tried to explain. But Lisa was having none of that.

"Get. Out."

"But-"

"GET OUT!"

"Lisa, relax" Marge ran over to hug her girl. "Breathe. It was just an accident."

"In this house, _nothing_ is an accident" Lisa let out, "nothing."

"That's not true!" Bart ran out of the room, to his own (Probably to do something with his ball)

Lisa sobbed. "Mom. Dad. I want to be alone."

Homer and Marge left the room.

It was 11:58.

Lisa rolled into her bed, under the sheets.

11:59.

"I wish Bart Simpson didn't exist!"

And fell asleep, her mind forgetting all about the Wishmaker's Mistake.

* * *

Lisa Simpson Woke up the next day.

It was the New Year.

And…

Well, it was exactly the same.

What. it wasn't like she'd wished on a star or something. she had just been a bit pissed off.

She got to the bathroom, sighed and opened the tap water, looking at the pool in the sink.

"Another Crummy year" she said, as she washed her face. She left the room, walking towards the stairs depressed.

"Jolly along, Sister dearest." A voice said from behind her. It was Bart.

Or, well, what Bart would look like if he'd been a Dork (as he called them). Hair combed and Gelled. A set of Square glasses on his face and no sign of the signature Orange T on him.

"Bart?"

"Who?"

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **Is this a prank? or something else?**

 **Well, I might answer those questions to you (If you ask), and I may do a story with this Premises sometime later (Of course, If I do, this change would be real in that story. But who knows?)**

 **Anyway. This here is another completed chapter. The first part is almost completely copied off the first act of 'On a Clear Day I can't See My Sister'. The Second part (From when they get home) is based on 'Wished Away', by** Swisssmarie.

 **Until next time, this is Davoid Signing off.**


	37. Back Then

Back Then, Lisa always liked Itchy better. Maybe because he was a little mouse who somehow managed to defeat a big goofy cat, against all odds.

Itchy was funny. Itchy was…well…

Actually, Lisa had no idea why she'd ever Liked Itchy.

Come to think of it, Lisa had no idea why she thought it was funny. She had definitely branded people (and Causes) as irredeemably evil for far less blood and gore than what the Cat went through daily.

Of course. Back then she'd been too dumb.

They'd all been too dumb.

* * *

Back then, Bart liked Krusty. The Money-loving Clown had been his Idol for years. Up until he was twelve, he'd followed The 'Code of Klown' as if it were word of god.

He'd dropped belief about the clown when he was twelve. When he had finally seen him for what he really was (and had been)

And finally realized that the clown had no funny bone in his body.

By thirteen, he didn't like Krusty anymore.

And right now he couldn't believe he'd rescued the clown from prison _that many times_ back in the day.

Man had _he_ been dumb.

* * *

Homer didn't work in the Nuclear plant anymore.

After years of psychological and physical torment, he'd finally said goodbye and left the plant and its nigh-immortal owner.

His job in The Bowl-arama was a better job anyway.

That, and the fact the kids had _finally_ left home had finally gave him the reason to say 'suck it!' one last time to the old Coot. This time, without returning. Ever.

And he couldn't be happier.

* * *

 **A.N: Record for my shortest story ever.**

 **But well. any more and this could be filler.**

 **So, I guess, this is it.**

 **Davoid out.**


	38. Does he do that a lot?

The Two fat men traded some taunts, then Homer tackled Peter, and the two rolled away, to the main square.

Marge blinked.

The Redheaded mother didn't look surprised, or even mildly uncomfortable.

"Does that happen often?" she asked, a few minutes later, when she noticed that none of the Griffins seemed to feel anything wrong with the actions of the two men.

"Oh yeah" The Teenage Girl said, "Dad gets into fights with this ch-"

"Shut up, Meg" the Mother, Lois, snapped at her, before continuing in a calmer tone, "Peter is a little easy to anger."

"Well, so is Homer" Marge allowed, remembering how many times his husband would get angry, "But he doesn't start fights like that."

"well There was that one time with that guy I hired to act as my brother" Bart said, tapping his chin, deep in thought, "But that was a long time ago. I don't think Homer's done something like that since we bought our new TV"

Marge groaned under her breath, but didn't continue further. To be honest, Lois snapping at her daughter like that, without thinking anything wrong with it, had shook her a little.

The Two families stood close, awkwardly staring at the Street.

Then the ground shook.

Everyone lost footing, Lisa and Brian falling to the ground, and Meg dropping her glasses.

Then, the sky itself shook, before something exploded. They didn't know this, but in Downtown Springfield, half the Buildings had lost their glass windows.

Marge shrieked "What the hell was that?"

"Chicken fight" Stewie replied.

"Wait. Did that baby talk?" Lisa asked surprisedly, Bart rolled his eyes "He's been talking all day, Lis'. Keep up." turning to the Boy, "What's a Chicken fight?"

"Dad sometimes gets into fights with this giant chicken" The tall girl replied, "It's-"

"Shut. Up. Meg" Lois struggled to release the words calmly.

"Ok, Mom" The Girl said, dropping her head, looking sadly to the ground.

"Actually," Marge said this time, "I want to hear what she wants to say. Stop trying to make her shut up"

"Frankly, it's none of your business" Lois replied, but Marge replied "That's abuse, Ms. Griffin. It _is_ my business when I'm seeing it with my two own eyes."

" _abuse?_ " Lois chuckled darkly, "how is not letting the girl ruin our reputation _abuse_?"

"Because his father's doing a fine job of that himself?" Marge shot back, "Now, dear. You were saying."

"My dad gets into fights with this giant chicken every once in a while. Bloody. Break a lot of bones. Then they go their ways. Everything turns back into normal." She shrugged, "This is probably like that"

"Oh, look" Bart said as he looked at his phone's screen, "The Nuclear plant just exploded."

"Chicken fight"

"that Explosion up there?" he looked at the sky. Two yellow dots circling each other as they went away and away from the City.

"Still a Chicken fight"

"That-" " _look,_ if my dad's involved, _everything_ is either a Chicken fight or a cutaway gag."

"oh."

* * *

Half a minute later, the two families were too bored to stand by for the two guys to return, everyone went to do something.

"Well, Peter's chicken fights normally take about five or so minutes. I'm going to sit in the car and wait for him to return." Said the Griffin housewife, as she did exactly as she'd said and went to the car, and sat down patiently for her husband to return.

Chris was, as per usual, doing his own thing, and Stewie (and Brian) had about five residents of the city to… _return_ to their homes…

And, like every time the Griffins went outside Quahog, Meg had put enough distance between the family and herself that she could plead 'I'm not with them!' when necessary.

This, of course, meant she was far enough from the Griffins that they forgot about her. they did that sometimes. Forget about her if she wasn't around. And sometimes even when she was.

But, this time, the Simpsons were around. And _they had seen everything_.

Lisa had heard it with her own ears what Peter had said when his daughter had _finally_ found something she was good at.

' _shut up, meg. You don't matter_ '

Bart had seen how Lois and Chris had tried to make her eat in the kitchen (with the Dogs), even though Marge had stopped them.

Marge had _seen_ Peter throw Lisa's old Saxophone (that she'd gifted to meg) into the trashcan, even though the family clearly had some space for it.

and they'd had had enough of it.

* * *

"Ok, Simpson" the Two bruised and battered men stopped by the house, Panting from the long hike. "it was nice meeting you."

"Yeah. Nice to see our parody in real life" Homer replied. The two men shared a laugh, shook hands, and Peter, with his torn clothes and bruised face, got in the car. "Goodbye!"

And stepped on it.

* * *

"Hey." Chris said, about five hours later, just as they left the borders of the state. "Where's Meg?"

* * *

"Ah. Finally, Back in quahog!" Peter said, as he relaxed on his spot on the couch. "Good to be home." Not giving a single crap about the fact her daughter was not home.

then, the bell rang.

"Go see who it is, Peter" Lois said from the Kitchen. Peter mumbled under his breath as he got up from the couch.

"Yes, who is it?"

"Mr. Griffin. I am Kyle Myers; this is my partner Jess Black. We're here from the Child Security Services. We've had an Anonymous report that we need to investigate on. May we speak with your daughter, please?"

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **No. the fact that Marge ignores how Homer acts with Bart is not lost on me. but seriously. Peter Griffin should've been arrested like years ago.**

 **Would have been, if he didn't live in Quahog.**

 **Anyway.**

 **This Chapter will have a Sequel later. I don't know when.**

 **Davoid signing off.**


End file.
